Dr F33lgood
by CutePoison
Summary: Michael has quite the surprise at his bachelor Final Ch.is up
1. Chapter 1

Michael sat in the chair feeling a bit ill at ease. He glanced over at a grinning Lincoln and grinning back, he shook his head as if to say, I'll get you for this.

When the music started, Dr Feelgood, a song he remembered from a ways back, he turned his face in the direction of the door waiting for what he knew would emerge from the darkened hallway.

He sighed in resignation as a shadowy figure appeared just beyond his vision. But when she stepped into the light his heart stopped before taking off like a locomotive inside his chest.

Michael watched frozen as she walked towards him, her red hair swinging out around her as she made quick purposeful strides in his direction.

He pulled his eyes from her to look over at Lincoln. The look on Linc's face told him he wasn't imagining things. Linc gave him an apologetic look as Michael snapped his head back towards the stripper.

She looked just like her. It wasn't just the red hair it was something about her eyes.

She could have been Sara's twin.

The woman being dressed like a naughty doctor didn't help the situation.

Michael watched as her doctor's coat swung open to reveal her scanty underwear and garter belts. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as she sat astride his lap and locked eyes with him.

Michael hadn't seen Sara in 3 yrs. but he would never forget her eyes, and this woman had them. Up close Michael could see the facial differences between this woman and Sara. It definitely wasn't her, but still, she bore a striking resemblance to Sara.

Sara had moved away after her father's death and Michael had figured he would just leave her in peace. Then shortly after being released from prison, Michael had met his fiancée' Jennifer. He had been sentenced to a 2 year sentence after Lincoln's exoneration, but had gotten out in 18 months for good behavior.

He tried to push Sara from his head as the red head pushed herself against him but his mind involuntarily went back to their time together in the infirmary.

He squeezed his eyes shut and told himself to not be aroused by this familiar stranger but his undisciplined erection was so painful he knew it was a lost cause.

He opened his eyes and looked at her cleavage as she pushed it into his face. As he took in her scent he told himself he was wrong, her perfume wasn't the same scent Sara always wore. He knew his mind was playing tricks on him, making him believe thing's that couldn't possibly be true.

The woman took his face in her hands and again he thought of the infirmary; a particular day in the infirmary to be exact. The day he and Sara had shared their one and only kiss. Sara with her hands on his face just like this...Sara with her face so close to his as she looked into his eyes..

The woman eased down on his erection and moved back and forth breaking eye contact.

As she rubbed herself against him Michael fought the urge to put his hands on her. She was exciting his nerve endings until he thought he would explode in his pants, her hair swishing against his face as she undulated in his lap.

He pulled back a little from her as her lips brushed his in a light teasing kiss.

Were they allowed to kiss customers? His inner question was answered as her lips settled on his in a searing kiss.

His breath left him in a gasp and her tongue found it's chance to slip inside his wanting mouth. The taste of her was of some minty mouthwash or breath mint.

Michael remembered Sara tasting of cinnamon. But still it was as if he were there again; in the infirmary. She pulled away a little but delved back in as his hands came up and around her small waist crushing her to him.

It was as if there were no one else in the room, as her hands slid up under his shirt raking her nails along his back making him hiss in the pain and pleasure of her actions.

When she raised herself up he pulled her back down on him and he felt a moan slide from his throat, the music drowning out all sound.

She bit his lip lightly, and unhooked her skimpy bra. And as it fell from her white shoulders and on to the floor she brought her breasts up to his waiting mouth. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, and then released it with a low growl.

He wanted her so much...Wanted to be inside this woman who looked like Sara..His Sara.

He had tried to forget her these last three years, but now he knew the painful truth.

As the music ended the woman disengaged herself from him and gave him a small almost knowing smile.

Michael watched her walk away thinking he would never get Sara out of his head...She would haunt him forever.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day

Michael sat in his office trying to get the red head out of his mind. Who was she? What kind of person did something like that for a living? Michael shook his head as if to clear it. But the image of her walking towards him came fresh to his mind despite his efforts to banish her from his head.

She looked so much like Sara.

And that was just it, Michael told himself. If she hadn't looked like so much like Sara, he would have completely forgotten her by now.

He thought again of Sara. She had been on his mind a lot lately. He had done a web search on her that morning. He felt his heart ache now as he recalled the newspaper article he had pulled up.

The article in question had been almost a year old. It seemed Sara will have been married, ironically a year on the date he and Jennifer had set for their own wedding ceremony.

Sighing deeply and leaning back in his chair Michael rubbed his hands over his closely cropped hair.

He knew he should head home to be with Jennifer, but for some reason going home wasn't what he 'wanted' to do. What he wanted was to go to the strip clubs to look for the red head. He told himself he only wanted to see her to prove to himself that it was the booze that had made her look so much like Sara, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he is hoping she did look like Sara.

Sighing again Michael pulled his briefcase from under his desk and loaded it full of papers and blueprints.

Just as he was pushing out from the desk his cell phone rang, so settling his long frame back in the chair he flipped it open and brought the phone to his ear.

"Hey", he said warmly into the phone.

"Hey yourself, stranger, any chance I will be seeing my fiancé' tonight"? She said in a sweet low voice. Michael smiled as he imagined her twisting her hair sexily.

He opened his mouth to say he was on his way, but what came out instead was, "I think it's going to be a late night for me, Jenn, I'm sorry".

"Oh, I made lasagna", she said sounding disappointed.

Michael leaned his head back in the chair and closing his eyes he did the one thing he had promised himself he would never do. He lied to her.

"I know, I just…I'm sorry Jenn. If there was some way I could skip this I would. You know how much I love your lasagna", he said feeling like a louse.

"Yeah, I know you love it", she said and Michael could hear the smile in her voice.

"The best thing about lasagna is it tastes just as good reheated. Maybe I'll wait up for you".

Michael's eyes snapped open.

"No, I mean I think I will just head home tonight. It's going to be a pretty late night and I don't want to keep you up. I know you have to get up early tomorrow", he said feeling like a lowlife.

"Okay", she said in what Michael thought was a hurt tone. "I love you Michael", she said softly.

"I love you too, Jenn", he said and flipped the phone closed.


	3. Chapter 3

As Michael pulled into the semi crowed parking lot, he told himself that if this wasn't the place he would give up and go home. This would be the third strip club he had been to that night.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a moment, asking himself what the hell he was doing.

He thought about the hurt tone in Jennifer's voice and told himself nothing was going to happen, he just needed to see her again. He just needed to…he wasn't sure what he needed, or why he was doing this.

He had a great woman that wanted to marry him. Jennifer was amazing.

So why couldn't he just be happy? Why did he have to search for Sara's doppelganger?

Sighing deeply he scraped his hands over his face trying to erase some of the day's fatigue. He sat as if transfixed staring at the blinking neon sigh for a few moments, then pulled his eyes away figuring if he didn't move soon girls, girls, girls would be forever tattooed on his retinas.

Michael pushed the car door open and stepped onto the cracked cement of the parking lot. As he walked he could feel and hear the sound of broken glass crunching under his expensive leather shoes.

He scraped a hand over his face once again and pulling his tie loose, he slipped it over his head. He stuffed it distractedly into his pocket as he approached the doorman.

"How ya doin"? The bouncer asked as he held out his hand for the door fee.

"Not too bad, thanks", Michael lied as he slipped the money from his wallet and into the man's outstretched hand.

Michael was just about to head into the smoky bar, when he turned back to the bouncer.

"Is there a redhead that works here? Dresses like a doctor"?

He wanted to kick himself for not thinking of asking the other doormen. He could have saved himself some time.

Michael had prepared himself for the answer to be no, that there was no one there matching that description, so when the man answered, his heart sped up with surprise.

"Yeah, you must be talkin' bout Amber. Now she's a hottie", the man said licking his lips.

"Amber", Michael repeated softly to himself, ignoring the bouncer's rude comments that followed.

With a softly mumbled "thanks", Michael turned around and headed into the smoky bar.

Michael made his way passed the bar and ignoring the dirty looks from fellow customers, he found an unoccupied table near the back of the room.

Absently ordering the first drink that came to mind, he scanned the room, taking in the whole scene as he looked for the flash of her red hair.

When his drink arrived he paid quickly and took a small sip of the scotch he had ordered.

Most strip clubs had a 3 drink minimum, and this was the third club he had visited that night. As Michael took another much larger sip of the burning liquid, he told himself that his next drink would be a ginger ale.

Michael settled back in his chair trying to relax, but as he brought the drink to his lips he noticed the small tremor still in his hand. What was wrong with him? It wasn't like she was Sara. She was a stripper for God's sake!

He was telling himself to relax when the familiar music started.

It was her song. Dr. Feelgood.

He leaned forward in his seat wishing he had chosen a table closer to the stage as she strutted out.

He watched her move as she slid around the pole. He wished he could see her eyes. He needed to see them. Michael rose from his chair and slowly made his way towards the front of the bar, as she swung around the pole, rubbing her lithe body against it.

She had yet to remove any clothing.

The doctor's coat was still fastened tightly, the buttons straining as she thrust out her chest against its confines.

As Michael drew closer she reached and unfastened the coat, letting it drop to the floor.

Her black bra and matching thong glittered in the lights that poured down on her sweat moistened body as she moved.

Michael stopped frozen, as she slipped the bra off and rubbed her hands along the sides of her breasts, her fingers grazing her nipples.

His breath caught in his throat as she turned her head in his direction.

She smiled at him and he wondered if she remembered him, or if it was just something she always did; smile at the clientele.

He locked his gaze on her face as she moved to the music. He found himself thinking that he was probably the only man in the place to even glance at her beautiful face.

Most of the men that came to a place like this had only one thing on their mind, okay two things he conceded, and neither of them was a girl's face.

Amber looked his way again, and yes, Michael was sure of it, she had smiled at him.

When the music came to an end, she gathered up her white coat and walked towards the back of the stage, not giving him another glance.

Not wanting to let her get away, Michael hurried to the back of the bar looking for a backstage entrance.

His mind was racing almost as fast as his heart as he knocked on the door that led presumably to the backstage area.

When no one answered he held his breath and knocked again, louder this time.

The door opened and a large man glared out at him. "What the hell do you want"?

Michael met the man's angry eyes. "I need to see Amber", he said not breaking eye contact.

The man shook his head and laughed.

"You do huh? You and all the other shmoes in here, buddy. Why don't you do yourself a favor and"…The man was saying when Michael saw a delicate hand fall on his shoulder.

The man stopped talking and looked behind him.

It was her; it was Amber.

Michael watched as she whispered something into the man's ear.

The man shook his head, but opened the door wide.

"Thanks", Michael muttered without taking his eyes from her.

Amber nodded her head and crooked her finger as if to say "follow me" and turned around.

Michael watched her retreating back for a moment, and then deciding to follow her, he went through the door


	4. Chapter 4

Michael followed her as she walked gracefully down the hall to an open doorway. When she disappeared inside, he stopped for a moment to gather his thoughts. Was he really following a stripper to a private room backstage? What was he hoping to accomplish by even coming here, was it sex? Was that what he really wanted from her?

He thought again of Jenn and told himself he wouldn't let it get that far. He just needed to talk to her. He needed to prove to himself that she really wasn't Sara.

He knew deep down that she couldn't be. Sara had a new life; a new husband. Why would she be moonlighting as a stripper?

Sighing deeply Michael made his way to the open door. He stopped frozen in the doorway looking in as she removed her robe and put on the doctor coat.

Michael cleared his throat and she glanced at him.

"Come on in, Michael. Don't be shy", Amber said smiling, and Michael knew it definitely wasn't Sara. Her voice was all wrong.

"How do you know my name"? He asked his intense eyes riveted on hers.

He still hadn't come fully into the room, but was standing just inside the door frame, his eyes never leaving her.

"I know a lot of things", she said ominously with a small smile. "Now, are you coming in, or not"?

Michael told himself he should leave now, he had his answer, and she wasn't Sara. But he found himself intrigued, so he stepped further into the room and closed the door behind him.

"So why are you here, Michael"? Amber said cutting to the chase.

Her doctor's coat wasn't fastened and her breasts kept peeking out as the jacket swung open. Michael knew she wasn't wearing a bra and the sight of her white skin was killing him.

"You could start by telling me how it is that you know my name", Michael said bringing his eyes level with her face.

"Okay", she said as she approached him. "But is that what you want to do, talk"? She smiled and ran her hand along his white shirt.

Michael's breath caught in his throat at her touch.

"And here I thought there was some other reason for this little visit", she grinned sexily as she walked around him blatantly sizing him up.

"I thought you might want to continue what we started at your party", she said as she wrapped her arms around him from behind and yanked his shirt out from where it was tucked into his pants. His thin shirt was the only barrier from her bare breasts against his back, as she leaned into him

Michael's mind screamed at him to pull away, to leave right then, but she felt so good pressed against him, with her hands running up under his shirt.

She was sending uncontrollable shivers down his spine from her hot breath on his neck.

When she slid a hand down to grasp his painful erection he gasped in pleasure.

Giving in to his desires Michael pulled her around to him and wrapping a hand around the back of her neck he brought her mouth to his. He slid his tongue into her hot mouth, tasting her, and once again felt the urgent need to be inside of her, to feel her wrapped around his hardness.

She smoothly undid his pants and he felt them fall around his ankles, the coolness of the room caressing his hot skin.

He pushed her back against the wall as his hands cupped her tight ass, and lifted her body, her legs instantly wrapping around his waist.

He brought his face to her breasts and sucked a nipple into the hot depths of his mouth. She moaned and arched her back pushing herself tighter to him. He could feel her wet need against his abdomen, exciting him more.

He rolled his tongue around her nipple using his teeth lightly, and spread her cheeks pressing her harder to him. She reached and pulled his mouth from her chest and her hot searing mouth devoured his lips. She sucked his bottom lip making him harder as he imagined her mouth around his hard cock.

He knew he needed to stop but couldn't. He needed to feel her…just once. To pretend that she was Sara.

"Oh, Sara", he moaned softly as she sucked his neck, leaving him beyond control.

In his arousal Michael didn't realize he had called her Sara.

Amber brought her lips to his ear, "Fuck me, Michael", she said hotly".

Nothing more was needed to be said. Michael pushed his boxers down and thrust deep inside of her hot core. He thrust in and out as she pulled his mouth to hers. She kissed him briefly then leaned her head back against the wall. Michael looked at her, watching the pleasure he was giving her etched across her beautiful face, her face that looked so much like Sara's. He wanted her to be Sara so badly. He needed her to be.

He squeezed his eyes closed and pushed deeper inside of her.

Opening his eyes he saw Amber was looking at the ceiling. He knew she was avoiding his eyes, but he was too aroused to ponder it. Michael watched her mouth open in pleasure, as she moaned louder her rapid breath increasing. Michael knew she would come soon. She was so wet against him.

He spread her wider and thrust once more his orgasm ripping through him as she clutched him to her.

Michael continued to move bringing her closer. Now that he could think straight, his mind screamed at him that he had made a mistake, a terrible mistake.

He thrust roughly into over and over until she exploded, her moans echoing off of the ceiling, as her muscles contracted around him.

Michael, his body sheathed in sweat, leaned his head against the cool wall trying to catch his breath.

"So", Amber said in a satisfied voice. "Who's Sara"?

Michael lifted his head to look at her, but didn't say anything.

"I'd just like to know who I should send a thank you note to, thats all", she said smiling and kissed him sweetly on the cheek.


	5. Chapter 5

Michael dressed quickly all too aware of Amber's eyes watching his every move. She was leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette; the doctor's coat still her only article of clothing.

"Sara Tancredi", she said suddenly, and Michael's fingers froze on the shirt button he was fastening. He was looking at her intently a question on his lips when she laughed.

"Don't worry Michael; it isn't as mysterious as you think. I read about the escape in the newspapers. That's how I know who you are. Really fascinating, your life", she added taking a pull on her cigarette.

"So I look like her then? I look like Dr. Sara"? She asked grinning.

"Or is it just the coat"? She added fingering the white material.

"I have to go", Michael said hurriedly fastening the remaining buttons on his shirt.

Her face became cold as she stubbed the cigarette out against the wall, and leaned forward.

"Yeah, you should go". She said icily.

Michael was turning the door knob to leave.

"Go home to your little fiancée', Michael", she laughed.

Michael pulled the door open and stepping into the hall, he closed it behind him, cutting off her laughter.

The next day

Michael sat in his office trying not to think of the previous nights events.

After he left the club he had driven around. His mind was much too restless to go home to bed, his thoughts too insistent to just cut them off. If he were to go home he knew he would just lay there tossing and turning unable to sleep.

Finally he had headed to his office, telling himself maybe he could block his thoughts with work, but his work had just sat in front of him untouched.

After an hour or more of staring at pages of blueprints without seeing them he had finally collapsed in exhaustion on the couch in his office. This morning he found himself with the same dilemma. He found himself sitting in front of his work, his mind reeling as he tried to figure out what he was going to do.

He had been avoiding Jennifer's calls and messages, telling himself he wasn't ready to speak with her. He knew that there was no way he could go ahead with the wedding, not after last night. But telling her wasn't going to be easy.

He loved Jennifer. He just wasn't 'in love' with her, he wasn't sure if ever had been. Asking her to marry him had seemed like what he wanted at the time. They had been together for a while and everything was going well. She was so easy to get along with, so comfortable he had convinced himself that she was what he wanted.

Now Michael knew he had been kidding himself. He knew he was still in love with Sara, and though he knew a future with Sara was highly improbable, he told himself he at least had to try.

Sighing softly, he opened the drawer in his desk and fished out the small notebook he had placed there the day before.

Flipping the pages he found what he was looking for; Sara's address. Her address was one of many things he had gleaned from his internet search. He also knew that she was a practicing physician in her own practice in California.

He ran a finger over her address and somehow felt closer to her. He knew he had to go to her. He knew he would never be able to get on with his life if he didn't hear her say it. If she didn't tell him there was no chance for them to be together he knew he would live each day hoping that someday she would forgive him, that she would give him another chance.

His cell phone rang, and fishing it from his pocket, he tossed the notebook onto the desk.

It was Linc. Sighing deeply he pushed the button to the outside world and brought the phone to his ear.

"Hey, Linc", Michael said trying to sound normal.

"Hey, little brother", Linc responded in a concerned tone.

"You okay? Jenn said you're not returning her calls. She's worried sick".

Michael scraped a hand across his unshaven cheek and laid his head back against the chair.

"Yeah, I'm ok", he lied. "I just needed some time".

Michael listened as the silence grew on the other end of the line.

"What did you do, Mike"? Linc finally asked his tone conveying his evident worry.

"I can't talk about it right now, Linc, I'm sorry. Listen can you tell Jenn that I am going away for a few days? Tell her I will be back on Monday and we will talk then, ok"? Michael pleaded.

"Yeah, ok, Mike", Linc said, and Michael could hear the disapproval in his big brother's voice.

"Thanks, Bro", he said softly and flipping the phone closed, he reached for the notebook. He stared at it for a moment then picked up his phone to buzz his secretary.

"Janet, I need you to book me on a flight to California, right away", he said determinedly.


	6. Chapter 6

2 days ago

Sara looked at her watch, it was past 7:00pm. 

Tiredly rubbing her hands across her face and up into her hair, she squeezed her eyes closed.

She knew that Brian would be waiting at home for her by now, but was reluctant to walk into yet another argument. She and Brian hadn't been married a year and things seemed to be falling apart for them.

Sara knew it was mostly her own fault that they were having problems. She couldn't seem to let him in. She held Brian at a distance for some reason, working late hours to avoid conflict.

Sara had made excuses to herself that it was a self protection mechanism, that she was protecting herself from being hurt again. But she knew that Brian deserved a wife who was willing and able to give herself to him completely. He was an amazing guy, and Sara knew she loved him, she just didn't know how to be that kind of wife for him

And then there was Michael. The fact that Sara couldn't seem to forget him no matter how hard she tried didn't help her marriage any.

Sara sighed and glanced again at the hands on the clock as she reached for the handle on her desk drawer.

She paused running her thumb along the handle telling herself she shouldn't look at it again. 

unable to stop herself, Sara opened the drawer and dropped her hand onto the sole newspaper clipping that rested at the bottom. She carefully pulled it out and brought it up to her eyes.

The clipping was a few weeks old, and Sara wasn't sure how many times she had read and reread the small print: Michael Scofield to wed.

She let her eyes fall on the small picture of the happy couple.

The woman was truly beautiful, with thick blond hair, and what were most likely bright blue eyes. The picture was black and white so Sara could only assume.

Sara ran a finger across the image of Michael's smiling face. He looked happy.

Biting her lip, Sara pushed her hair up from her face as she studied him. She was happy for him wasn't she? After everything he had been through didn't he deserve some happiness?

Sara sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, thinking about the last time she had been with Michael. She had been running from Agent Kellerman.

After jumping from the window, she had attended to her wounds and was lying low.

She was bleeding and scared when the cell phone rang.   
Sara remembered staring at it briefly as it vibrated in her hand, knowing instantly that she would answer it, that she had to.

Prior to his call Sara had stared at the phone wondering if Michael would even pick up if she were to try to call.

After leaving the way she had, Sara hadn't been sure he would want to speak with her much less help her.

Sara had known almost instantly that leaving Michael was a mistake. She had known even before Kellerman had stuck a gun in her face.

In fact she had been about to go back to the motel room when Kellerman showed up.

Sara had almost paid for that mistake with her life.

She sighed deeply and placing the clipping back into the drawer, she silently slid it closed.

She quietly gathered her belongings and pushed out from the desk. She made her way to the door and pulled it closed, locking it securely behind her.

Sara never failed to think of Michael each time she locked up. Her mind would instantly be transported to the night she had left the infirmary door unlocked for him. That night had changed Sara's life in so many ways.

Out in the lobby Sara leaned her back against the marble wall of her medical practice.

As she waited for the elevator her thoughts returned once again to her husband Brian who was waiting at home for her.

Sara sighed deeply, her keys dangling from her hand. 

She knew that things in her life could be worse, much worse. 

But that didn't keep her from wondering if things couldn't somehow be better.


	7. Chapter 7

The next day

Sara put down the phone feeling slightly shocked.

When she hired the private detective a few months back she had known that there was a chance his findings would take her back to Chicago. But she had hoped her sister would turn up elsewhere. Sara wasn't sure she was ready to go back to Chicago and all of the pain she had left there.

Sara traced her finger along the name the detective had given her.  
Amber Williams, her sister, her twin sister. Sara had only learned of her existence after her father's death. There had been a letter with his legal documents addressed to her, explaining that she was adopted by the Tancredis and that her sister had gone to another family.

After getting over the hurt and anger of learning that she was adopted, Sara had then worked on coming to terms with the fact that she had a twin sister somewhere.

It had taken Sara a while to come to the decision that she would like to know this person, her only living family. That she would like to have her sister in her life.

Sara had hoped to find her twin quickly, but at first the detective had come up empty handed. It seemed her sister had changed her name several times, making her hard to trace.

Making a quick decision, Sara grabbed her cell phone and punched in the number to LAX . She quickly made a plane reservation for the next evening, reminding herself that she would have to work on clearing her schedule today or it would be impossible to make the flight.

She knew that Brian would be upset with her to say the least. Though he had encouraged Sara in her search for her twin, she knew that he wouldn't be too keen on her traveling to Chicago without him.

Sara knew that with his work load there would be no possible way for him to tag along on such short notice. She also knew he would question her haste in heading to Chicago to meet her sister. She wasn't sure how to explain to him the increasing importance of finding Amber…of actually having a sibling when she had thought she was alone.

Sara sighed as she wondered what her twin would be like. Was she a professional, or a house wife? Why had she changed her name so frequently? Sara pushed it from her mind, telling herself it didn't matter. What mattered was she had a sister.

Sara was quickly becoming excited, and the feeling startled her. It seemed she hadn't been excited about anything in so long she had forgotten the feeling.

She pulled open her desk drawer to tuck her flight information away and her eyes fell on the clipping.

Sara stared at it for a moment telling herself the excitement she was feeling had nothing to do with the fact that Michael Scofield still resided in the Chicago area, nothing at all.

Later that day

When Sara pushed open the front door the whiff of Chinese food assaulted her nostrils. Usually she loved the food, but tonight her stomach was full of nervous butterflies. Tomorrow at this time she would hopefully be boarding a plane to take her to Chicago to meet her sister.

"Sara, is that you"? Brian called out from the living room, where she pictured him with his feet on the coffee table and a fork poised above his favorite sesame chicken.

"Yeah, it's me", she replied as she dumped her hand bag on the table and shrugged out of her light jacket.

She made her way with trepidation into the living room to see her husband sitting exactly as she had pictured him.

"Hey", she said forcing a smile as she took a seat beside him.

She stared at his short blonde hair for a moment until he pulled his eyes from the television.

"Your home late", he said and then shoved another bite of chicken into his mouth.

Sara sighed, thinking here we go again, as she kicked off her sensible shoes and tucked her feet beneath her.

"I had a lot to finish up", she said in explanation.

"You always have a lot to finish up", Brian said his eyes once more glued to the screen.

Sara let her eyes move to the television. He was watching the news. She was about to tell him about her sister and her impending trip when Michael's face popped onto the screen.

Sara felt her heart beat quicken as she gazed at his larger than life features. The eyes she had once thought she could fall into, the lips she had once kissed, if only briefly.

Pulling herself from her Michael induced catatonia, Sara forced her eyes to the newscasters face. The woman was saying that Michael had donated his time and efforts to help construct the new children's ward at Chicago's Northwestern Memorial Hospital.

Sara felt Brian's eyes on her and pulled her gaze from the screen.

He shook his head. "So what, he's a hero again"?

Without another word Brian rose from the sofa. He sat the carton of Chinese food down sharply some of it bouncing out onto the table, as he turned and stalked from the room. Sara leaned back against the sofa closing her eyes for a moment. She knew it was inevitable that they would spend the better part of the evening arguing again.

Sighing deeply she pushed herself to her feet and headed into the bedroom for another round of marital bliss.


	8. Chapter 8

(Sara)

Sara made her way passed the many shops in the airport, her eyes on the lookout for the Starbucks she knew to be in close proximity. She knew a cup of coffee would not only revive her for the trip, but she also craved the stuff like crack.

She had rushed through the day exhausting herself in her efforts to make this trip to Chicago possible, barely stopping to breathe much less grab a mug of the only addiction she allowed herself these days.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee invaded her senses before she saw the sign up ahead, and her caffeine starved system made a beeline for the shop.

She stepped in line behind a short man talking irately on his cell phone. She tuned him out as he ranted about stock shares, telling herself soon she would be on the plane. Soon she would be meeting her twin sister.

Sara smiled to herself as she envisioned their first meeting. Would Amber be happy to know she had a sister? Sara wasn't sure if her twin was even aware of her existence.

Sara moved ahead with the line. She was deep in thought.  
So much so, that she didn't notice when someone stepped into the line behind her.

(Michael)

Michael made his way passed the other travelers, luggage in hand. The trip to Los Angels had been an uneventful one as he had slept through most of it.

He yawned and rubbed a hand over his tired eyes telling himself he needed to wake up. He spotted the Starbucks and made his way towards the small shop telling himself a hot cup of coffee was just what his sleep fogged mind needed.

He stepped in line behind the red haired woman his thoughts miles away. But then someone grumbling loudly about stock shares rudely interrupted him from his thoughts. Sticking his head around the woman in search of the disruption, he saw a man with a cell phone glued to his ear. The man's face was red and Michael wondered briefly if the man was headed towards a heart attack.

Michael was moving back behind the woman when he caught a whiff of her perfume. He would know that scent anywhere.

His breath caught in his throat as he took in the dark auburn hair, and the tall slim figure of the woman in front of him.

She turned her head slightly and Michael wondered if he wouldn't be the one to have a heart attack that day.

Michael knew that it was against the odds that Sara would be at this particular airport on this particular day, but here she was all the same.

He took in a deep breath, and holding it, he told himself to remain calm. Sara was oblivious to his presence.

Michael watched her flip her hair back from her face, the harsh lighting of the shop not diminishing its beauty in the least. He saw her glance at her watch with a small sigh.

Michael looked ahead at the unmoving line. Until that moment he hadn't realized the line wasn't moving.

He watched as Sara looked at her watch once more and began to turn, catching him totally unprepared as their eyes met for the first time in over three years.

(Sara)

Sara glanced impatiently at her watch. She sighed softly as she realized the line had not moved in quite some time. She could still hear the red faced man griping on the phone, and felt like griping herself as the possibility of not getting a precious cup of coffee became more and more likely.

She looked irritably at her watch once more and decided to give up on the caffeine fix. She couldn't risk missing her flight. She turned around to leave and her mouth dropped open at the sight behind her.

"Michael", she managed to choke out, her eyes drawn to him.

Her heart was pounding in her ears as she took in the sight of him. He looked the same as the last time she had seen him.

"Sara", he said and the small smile that lit his eyes brought instant color to her cheeks.

She stared at him not knowing what to say. How could he be here? Why would he be here on this day of all days?

"Sara, how have you been"? He asked. And it was as if they were back in the infirmary.

Back then he would always ask her that same question, "How have you been", like it was so important to him. She shook her head slightly to clear it, and pulled her eyes from his.

"I've been fine. How about you"? She replied feeling like an actress with lines she must recite.

"I'm good, I guess", he smiled, sticking his hands into his pockets.

Sara knew her flight was leaving soon, but suddenly her feet felt leaden. She couldn't seem to pull herself away from him. She told herself to just open her mouth and tell him she had to go; that she had a flight to catch, but her mouth refused to comply.

Sara watched Michael turn around, as someone behind him tapped him on the arm. She heard him mumble an apology and then he turned back to her. With a slight raise of his eyebrows, Michael looked around her and she followed his gaze.

"Looks like the line moved", he smiled softly.

Michael's eyes never left her as they moved ahead.

"Let me by you a cup of coffee, Sara. Please"? He said, his eyes pleading with her to say yes.

Sara swallowed hard and forced her tongue to obey her.

"I can't Michael", she said softly.

She glanced once more at her watch. "My flight leaves soon", she explained.

"Okay, I understand", he said, but his disappointment was obvious.

She started to walk away, but he stopped her, his hand wrapping gently around her arm.

She turned back to face him.

"It was good seeing you Sara", Michael said softly.

"Yeah, you too, Michael", she forced out and his warm fingers fell from her arm, as she walked away.

She made her way quickly to her boarding gate telling herself she would not look back. She would not let herself be taken in by him again. There were just too many reasons why a relationship between the two of them wasn't possible.

After all she was a married woman, wasn't she?


	9. Chapter 9

Michael stood watching Sara walk away, her red hair disappearing as she moved further and further away from him.

He wanted so badly to go after her, but he held himself in check. He wondered where she was going and when she would be returning.

He knew he could only afford to wait for her there in L.A. for a few days. He would need to get back to work soon. And then there was Jennifer. He owed Jenn more than this. She deserved better than him running off like this; chasing after a dream. He at least owed her an explanation.

Michael sighed deeply and stepped out of the line, only to begin pacing. He felt the eyes of the man who had been in line behind him and motioned for him to move ahead.

He stopped pacing and stood for a few moments looking in the direction Sara had taken, trying to talk himself out of what he was about to do. But every fiber in his body told him he needed to go after her; to make her talk to him. He knew he needed to convince her to just sit down with him and listen to what he had to say; to let him explain the things that he had never gotten the chance to explain.

He had tried once, yes. But there had just been too much going on; too many things that could go wrong and too many lives at stake to make that time about them. So when she had pushed him away, telling him she didn't want to talk about it, not in the midst of everything that was going on, he had let it go figuring there would be time later.

And then when everything was over it was too late. He was taken into custody and Sara had packed up and left. He couldn't really blame her. Sara had been through so much because of him. She deserved to start over; to have a new life.

He had figured she had made her decision and he should respect that decision and let her go. But now he knew letting her go was no longer an option.

He sighed again and began walking in the direction she had taken. He wasn't even sure if he could find her. He had no clue which gate she was headed to. But as his feet took him further and further away from the coffee shop his pace increased. Soon he was jogging as he scanned the boarding gates looking for her.

He thought he saw the flash of her red hair and stopped short. And then she was gone. He looked at the gate number and let his eyes move to the destination.

Chicago. Sara was going to Chicago? He stood for a moment the irony of the situation not lost on him, and then headed to the front of the airport.

He stood impatiently in the terminally long line, and when it was his turn to be helped he slid his return ticket toward the tired looking man who stared across the desk at him.

"I need to change this", Michael explained quickly.

"Sir, you just arrived", the man began, as he examined the ticket.

Michael cut him off. "I know. I know I just got here. But now I need to get back to Chicago, as soon as possible. It's an emergency", he stressed ".

The man looked at him for a moment and then started typing on his keyboard. It only took him a few minutes, but the tap tapping of the man's fingers were grating on Michaels's nerves as he anxiously waited for the man to finish and give him his new itinerary.

The man looked up from his typing. "Will you be paying with cash or credit card this evening, Mr. Scofield"? He said reading Michael's name from the monitor in front of him.

Michael quickly handed the man his credit card to pay the difference and forced himself not to pace.

When the man slid his credit card and new ticket across the desk, Michael mumbled "Thank you", and headed back towards Starbucks for the coffee he knew he probably no longer needed.

He was wired enough. But he had to do something to pass the time.

He looked at the ticket clutched in his hand and wondered how he would ever be able to wait the two hours until his return flight to Chicago.


	10. Chapter 10

(Michael)

"Janet, I need you to do something for me", Michael spoke into the phone.

"I need you to call Hotels in the Chicago area, see if they have a guest registered by the name of, and it was on his lips to say Sara Tancredi…but then he remembered that Sara was married and was no longer using her maiden name. By the name of Sara Thomas", he finished.

"I'll get right on it, Sir", Janet said in her always efficient voice.

"Thanks, Janet".

Michael sighed and hung up the phone.

Putting his face in his hands he heaved a weary sigh. He had gotten in to Chicago late, and thinking he was dead on his feet he had crawled into bed only to close his eyes and see Sara.

He had kept replaying their conversation in his head, his closed eye lids like a television screen. After two hours of this he had finally given up and headed for the shower.

He now sat at his desk, his third cup of coffee cooling next to his hand. He had nothing work related in front of him.

In fact, the only thing in front of him other than the cup which read 'sexy engineer', a joke gift from Jennifer, was an article with a small picture of Sara which he had printed out the day before.

Michael was exhausted, but he somehow knew that if he were to try to sleep he would find himself tossing and turning, his mind unable to shut down despite his fatigue.

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his closed eyes.

He felt his mind drifting into a semblance of sleep but his eyes sprang open instantly at the sound of his ringing phone.

"Yes, Janet"?

He sat forward a little in his chair.

"Mr. Scofield, I have the information you requested", Janet said as Michael clutched the phone tightly.

"I'm listening", he said intently.

Michael listened quietly as Janet spoke. And then grabbing a sheet of paper, he quickly jotted down the name and location of Sara's hotel.

(Sara)

Sara turned from the window of her hotel room and walked back to the bed.

She had been staring out at the Chicago traffic for much too long lost in her troubled thoughts.

Her mind was still reeling from her encounter with Michael. She had thought of nothing else the entire plane trip.

When she had finally reached her hotel she had grabbed a quick dinner and then fallen into bed exhausted. But she hadn't slept well, her dreams had been filled with memories and possibilities.

It seemed Michael Scofield followed her where ever she went.

And now Michael was in California. Why would he be in California? Was he there because of her? But then why would he want to see her, when he was engaged to be married?

Sara had gone over this in her head so many times she felt like screaming.

She knew she needed to stop thinking about him and just go see her sister, but he keep stepping forward in her mind blocking all other coherent thought.

She would find herself thinking how good his fingers had felt wrapped around her arm. She could still see his smile.

Sara sighed softly and told herself to get moving, to forget about him.

Grabbing her coat and hand bag she stepped outside her hotel room and shut the door quietly behind her.

She would do what she had come to Chicago to do. She would go meet her twin sister. Sara felt a smile lift her face at the thought of finding her family.

As she strode purposefully towards the elevator, Sara vowed to herself she wouldn't think of Michael Scofield again, she would push him from her mind.

She pressed the elevator button and waited, her mind stubbornly replaying the scene at the airport once again in a moment of weakness.

Sara sighed again at the blatant betrayal of her thoughts. But when the elevator door opened her heart stopped and then took off full speed.

"Michael"? She muttered confused.

What was he doing here? Was he back from California already?

"Sara", he said softly.

The elevator started to close so he stuck a hand out to stop it. They stood staring at each other for a few moments and then he stepped out of the elevator and moved towards her.

"I need to speak with you, please"? He said, and when she didn't say anything he took her elbow in hand and steered her away from the elevator.

Sara let him lead her back to her room, but instead of opening the door she put her back to it and looked at him.

"I don't think this is a good idea, Michael", she said finding his closeness painful.

Sara knew she shouldn't be alone with him. She was being honest with herself for the first time in a long time. And the truth was she couldn't trust herself around him.

He stepped closer and she eased herself away from the door gaining a little more distance.

"I have to be somewhere", she lied. "I'm here on business, Michael".

Michael nodded.

"Yeah, I figured as much, about you being here on business I mean. Can we meet for dinner then"?

After a few beats when she still hadn't answered, "I swear I won't show up here again, if you just agree to meet me for dinner tonight", he smiled.

Sara smiled and then laughed softly.

"Okay, Michael, dinner. But I really have to go now", she said and eased her way around him.

He followed her and they waited quietly for the elevator that would take them to the lobby.

When the doors swooshed open Michael stepped aside to let her enter and then stepped into the elevator behind her.

When the doors closed Sara stared straight ahead for a moment, and then reached to hit the button to take them to the lobby.

She felt Michael's eyes on her and looked at him with an uncomfortable smile.

"I hope you like Thai. I found this great little place about a month ago", Michael said and Sara was grateful for the small talk to break the tension in the close elevator.

"That sounds good", she said and breathed a sigh of relief when the elevator doors slid open.

She was starting to walk away when his fingers wrapped around her wrist.

"Is 7:00 okay"?

Sara just stared at him for a moment her body much too aware of his fingers on her skin.

"Um..Yes..7:00 is fine", she mumbled softly as she inwardly scolded herself for her school girl reaction.

"I have to go, Michael", she said and his fingers slipped from her wrist as she walked away from him.

Sara breezed through the hotel door and out into the busy noise of the Chicago streets wondering how she would get through dinner with him. It seemed he still did things to her senses she couldn't explain.

The cool Illinois air felt good on her flushed cheeks.  
And Sara took a deep relieved breath of it as she hailed a cab.

She pulled open the door and hopped in when the cab pulled to the curb and came to a stop.

Looking out the window she saw Michael watching her. He stood with his hands on his hips and when he noticed her looking his way he smiled at her. Sara smiled back and then leaned forward.

"I need to go to W. Melrose Street; Sara said.

She then settled back into the seat as the cab shot forward into downtown traffic.


	11. Chapter 11

Sara's knocked lightly on the door and then waited. At the sound of approaching footsteps she glanced behind her to see a man in his late fifties coming towards her.

She felt the friendly smile touching her lips fall away as she took in the man's angry expression. And then he was pushing her roughly against the door.

Sara screamed and then his hand clamped tightly over her mouth.

"Shut the hell up, Amber"! The man hissed his eyes filled with rage.

Sara looked at him her eyes wild with fear.

"Tell me you have my money, Amber", the man insisted pressing his body roughly into Sara's.

Sara's breath was coming in short bursts through her flaring nostrils, and she felt like her heart might explode in her chest. She hadn't been this scared since her time on the run with Michael. Oh, God how she wished he were here with her now! If only she had asked Michael to come along with her.

The man was glaring at her.

"I'm gonna take my hand away from your mouth and you're gonna tell me you have the money you owe me, okay? Nod if you understand me, bitch"! The man hissed.

Sara nodded her head and felt the man's fingers loosen against her lips. He slowly removed his hand and placed it around her throat.

"Now don't even think about screaming again", he warned.

Sara gulped in a huge breath.

"I'm not who you think I am, I'm not Amber", she said trying to speak calmly.

"You're not Amber, huh"? The man asked with cruel amusement gleaming in his eyes.

"You're not the little bitch who borrowed twenty grand from me"?

Sara shook her head vehemently.

"I swear I don't know anything about any money. I'm Amber's twin sister. I came here looking for her….To meet her", Sara tried to explain.

The man grabbed her face in his hand squeezing lightly.

"Please", Sara said softly. "Please just look in my wallet. You'll see that what I'm telling you is the truth".

The man looked at her for a moment, but then reached his hand to unfasten her handbag. He slipped his hand in and rummaged around. Sara breathed a sigh of relief when he brought out the wallet and flipped it open.

"Sara Thomas", he read aloud. He looked from her to the license and back.

"How do I know this is real? What kind of idiot do you take me for"? The man spat.

"You're forgetting that I know all of your tricks, Amber".

Sara saw a flash of red hair.

"Let her go, Lou". The man's head whipped around and was met with a fist. He fell away from Sara and she felt her arm almost pulled from the socket as her sister grabbed her and pulled her along.

"Come on"! Amber urged picking up speed.

Sara picked up her pace until the two women were running. They made it to the front door of the building and pushed out onto the busy Chicago Street.

The two women had been running for quite some time when Amber led them into an ally.

Sara stopped and clutched at her mid section trying to catch her breath. Amber looked at her and then pulled open a door in the side ally grabbing Sara pulling her inside.

The room was quiet and dark, and all that could be heard was the sound of the two women's harsh breathing.

As Sara's eyes adjusted she could make out the shape of boxes and cleaning supplies. And then Sara heard the unmistakable sound of a match striking as the accompanying glow lit her sister's so familiar face.

Sara stared at her. Now that the danger had passed Sara found herself in awe of her twin's uncanny resemblance to her. 

Amber gazed coolly at her and then brought the match to her cigarette.

The match went out and Sara stood staring in the dark as the cherry on her twin's cigarette brightened with each inhalation.

"Um, thank you… for um"… Sara faltered and pushed a shaky hand through her hair. "Thank you for that", she said simply.

Sara could feel her sister's eyes on her.

"What were you doing at my apartment"? Amber said coolly.

"Um, I was hoping that we could talk. I just… I just wanted to meet you", Sara said and then felt herself growing angry.

She could have been hurt, possibly even killed, and here Amber was treating her like she had done something wrong. Sara looked at her sister, her features hard to read in the gloom.

"I'm Sara", she said pushing her anger aside. "I'm your sister". 

Sara heard Amber take a deep breath, followed by a slow throaty laugh.

"You're my sister"? Amber laughed again. "No shit? Well then this is just too good Sara Tancredi". 

She stared at Amber in the darkness.

"You know who I am", Sara said softly.

Choosing not to answer Sara's question Amber dropped her cigarette to the floor and stubbed it out with her boot.

"Come on", she said, and grabbing Sara by the arm she led them through the dark room passed the shadows of boxes and shelves filled with cleaning supplies.

Sara squinted as the bright light hit her eyes. 

Amber had led them to a door which opened onto a deserted hallway. Amber glanced at Sara once more and then led her passed several closed doors before coming to a stop in front of a door on the left side of the hall.

She pushed the door open and stepped into the room her fingers still wrapped around Sara's arm. Sara had no choice but to follow her sister inside.

The room was small and held a vanity table and a few hard backed chairs and a waredrobe. Sara took in the array of makeup and creams laid out on the table and decided it was a dressing room of sorts.

When they were safely behind the closed door Amber slid the dead bolt and turned to face her.

"So, Sis, what brings you back to Chicago"?

Sara pulled her eyes from her surroundings and stared at her sister. She found herself wondering just how much Amber knew about her.

"Um, I actually came here to see you, Amber", Sara said meeting her sister's eyes.

It was like looking into her own eyes thought Sara. Like back when she was using and would stare at her own reflection feeling so unreal she felt the need to see if she was actually there.

Amber cocked an eyebrow and smiled.

"Well then let me guess, your dying and you need a kidney"? Amber deadpanned.

Sara was taken aback at her twin's statement.

"I... I just wanted to meet you and... I don't know, connect with you, I guess. You're the only family I have left", Sara finished softly.

Amber stared at her, her expression still void of emotion.

"And this matters to me, why"?

Sara met her sister's eyes. "I don't know, I just thought maybe... you know what? I shouldn't have come here", Sara said suddenly.

She had the feeling Amber didn't want this meeting, and to force it on her would only result in an argument. And that wasn't her intention. Sara had had enough dysfunctional relationships to last a lifetime.

Sara was turning to go when Amber reached out to her.

"Wait. Listen, I'm not good with this sister shit. I'm actually not good with anyone who comes outta nowhere. My radar seems to go off if you know what I mean"? Amber said with a smile brightening up her face.

"Usually someone comes outta nowhere they want something from me, and at the moment I'm not feeling too charitable".

Sara nodded and returned her sister's smile. "I understand".

Amber fished a cigarette out of the pack and then held it out offering Sara one.

"Um, no, no thanks, I don't smoke".

Amber struck a match and stuck it to the end of her cigarette.

"Of course you don't , I mean your a doctor, right"?

Again Sara found herself wondering just how much Amber knew about her life.

"How do you know so much about me"? Sara asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Amber took her cigarette up to her lips.

The smoke leaving her mouth, "I guess I must have read a thing or two about you in the newspaper, Sara. I mean the Governor's daughter, wow! You certainly faired well. I mean I only got the abusive father. You got a Governor"! Amber said her bitterness showing through her smile.

Again Sara was taken aback. What was she supposed to say to that? Amber seemed so honest yet guarded. This strange combination along with such a bold confession made Sara feel uncomfortable.

"Look, why don't we go grab lunch or something"?

Amber regarded her coolly.

"Lunch? No I can't. I'm up soon. As a matter of fact I hope you don't have a problem with my getting ready while we talk, I go on in about 15 minutes".

Sara watched , as Amber stubbed out her partially smoked cigarette.

"Um, no I don't mind.

She was wondering exactly what Amber had to get ready for when she heard music start up somewhere in the building.

"We're open for business", Amber said and she pulled her t-shirt up over her head.


	12. Chapter 12

(Sara)

Sara pulled her eyes away from her twin's bare flesh. She was pretty sure she knew what Amber had to 'get ready for'. Her twin was a stripper.

Sara took a deep breath and tried to have an open mind. But so far she was finding that a little difficult. Not only was Sara put in danger due to the fact that Amber owed 'Lou' twenty thousand dollars, but she also had to digest the fact that her sister took her clothes off for money.

Amber looked coolly at her as if reading her thoughts.

"We can't all be born with a silver spoon ready to be thrust into our mouths, Sara".

Sara shook her head. "I wasn't… I mean".

She had been about to say she wasn't judging her sister, but that would have been a bold faced lie. Sara was judging her.

She felt her cheeks redden and was starting to apologize when Amber spoke.

"Its okay, Sara, I'm used to it".

Sara met her sister's eyes and for the first time she saw Amber's cool demeanor slip a notch.

"I have to go. If you wanna wait for me we could grab dinner"?

Amber had her hand on the door ready to leave.

"I…um…yeah, dinner would be great", Sara said forgetting all about her plans to dine with Michael that night.

(Later)

Sara, feeling uncomfortable with the idea of watching her twin's 'performance', had inquired at the door as to when Amber's sift would be over. Then borrowing a pen she had scrawled a quick note promising to return.

Sara now sat in a hot bath her head leaning back as the hot steam soothed the tension from her body. She only wished it could soothe her mind as well.

She sighed as she told herself the only logical explanation. She would have to cancel her plans to meet Michael for dinner.

She barely knew her sister; she couldn't very well bring her into the middle of whatever was happening between the two of them.

She wondered exactly what was happening with her and Michael. What was on his mind? Was he having second thoughts about his impending marraige?

If he was there to try to reconcile with her, she wasn't sure what her response would be.

After all she was married to Brian. But if she were to be honest with herself, she would have to admit she did indeed still have feelings for Michael. And she was definitely still attracted to him.

But there had been so much damage done to her relationship with Michael when it technically hadn't even existed, that even if she wasn't married Sara had her doubts. She wasn't sure if a relationship could ever be possible with Michael.

Besides she had made her bed and now she had to lie in it, so to speak. And that bed didn't have one Michael Scofield in it.

Sara blushed at the thought. She had never met a man that could make her blush like Michael could, and it seemed he didn't even have to be present to elicit such reactions from her.

She leaned back in the bathtub, her hair dipping further into the hot steamy water.

She knew she needed to call Michael and tell him she couldn't meet with him.

She told herself just a few more minutes and she would haul herself out of the comforting warmth and make the call.

She closed her eyes, only intending to rest them briefly, and drifted off to sleep.

(Mike)

Michael paced silently in the hotel lobby. He looked again at his watch. Where was she? Sara had said 7:00. His watch told him she was 15 minutes late. He glanced at it again and told himself he was going to go crazy if he found himself looking at his wrist one more time.

He tried to sit down and read a 3 month old magazine, but somehow Brad and Angelina didn't hold any fascination for him just then. Tossing the magazine down, he soon found himself back on his feet pacing. When the elevator chimed its arrival, Michael held his breath, only to let it out in a gush as it opened to reveal a lovely older woman.

She smiled at his anxious eyes and gave him a knowing look.

"Why don't you go see what's taking her so long"?

At his look of incredulity, she winked.

Michael grinned at her retreating back. Some women only got better with age, and he was betting she was one of them. He then found himself wondering what Sara would look like in 3o years and his grin widened. He had to admit to himself he would love for her to age well, but if she didn't, it really didn't matter to him just so long as she aged with him.

Deciding to consider the woman's advice as wisdom gained from age, he made his way to the elevator, where he then stepped in and pushed the button for Sara's floor.

(Sara)

Sara was dreaming about water. She was in the midst of a dream see had had frequently at a different time in her life. She was dreaming about Agent Kellerman and his tactics to get her to talk.

In the dream he pushed her under and she felt her heart booming in her chest.

She felt her lungs begin to ache as she held the precious breath she had managed to gasp before being plunged into the water. The water was so cold; so very cold.

She gasped hungrily for air as he yanked her back up. She knew he was going to kill her. And the whole time she was with Kellerman she couldn't help but feel sorry; sorry she had tried to leave Michael. Sorry she had been so very afraid of him and her own feelings for someone like him. Sorry too that she would never have the chance to tell him that she loved him.

Sara felt Kellerman's hand on the back of her head and pulled in a desperate breath before her face struck the cold water once more. She saw the chain to the plug in the clear blue water, her eyes stinging. If only she could reach it. But it wasn't like Lance… Kellerman would let her pull the plug even if she were to reach it.

Then as always, the dream took a turn.

In reality Kellerman had pulled her back up when his phone rang, but in the dream the phone remained silent and the pressure of his hand on the back of her head remained firm.

Her lungs were on fire and she saw the first bubbles of expelled air seep from her mouth; her very life bubbling away. Her vision swam and she saw the claws of darkness reaching to her from behind her eye lids.

And as the darkness descended she saw her father hanging in the doorway of his home. His face slack and grey, waxy with death. Her dream sped forward and she saw Michael on a building, and then he was falling. As on every other occasion she had dreamed of this, Sara woke with a terrified scream filling her throat.

(Mike)

Michael's balled fist was about to land on the closed door of Sara's suite, when he heard her scream from inside the room.

He looked about anxiously his mind running in too many directions at once. Was she in danger? Was someone in there hurting her?

He pushed his thoughts aside and took action. He rammed into the door, his body feeling every hard inch of the reinforced wood. He backed up and rammed once more and when the door gave, he stumbled into the room.

Sara felt herself go under, her body sliding in the slippery tub. She clutched the sides and came up gasping to the sounds of something heavy slamming into the door of her suite.

Her heart pounding in her head, she pulled herself up on shaky legs and grabbed a towel. She had just gotten it secured around her dripping frame when the bathroom door flew open.

Michael froze at the sight of her. She stood in front of him as lovely as ever dripping in her towel. Her hair looked darker wet and the flush that came up on her face at the sight of him made her glow.

"Uh, I heard you scream"? He mumbled unable to avert his eyes from her wet skin.

"Um, I fell asleep in the bath and I guess I um, I slipped under. It um… I'm okay, Michael, really".

Sara felt so exposed in the small room with only a towel separating Michael's eyes from her skin. She found herself thankful he hadn't barged in a few moments earlier, and then felt her cheeks redden more at the mere thought.

"Could you um… Could you give me a minute"? She said and reached to push her dripping hair from her face.

Michael pulled his eyes from her and stepped back.

"I'll just um… I'll wait in the lobby for you".

He felt what, he wasn't sure. Embarrassed? Embarrassed definitely, but there was something more. He didn't want to let her out of his sight. He knew she was safe; he knew it was ridiculous that he was feeling this way, but he found himself once again slipping into protective mode.

When they had found her after her run in with Paul Kellerman he had sworn to himself he wouldn't let anything happen to her; he wouldn't let anyone hurt her ever again. And he had kept that promise. He had kept her safe. Now he felt all those old feelings coming back. And he knew they were unwarranted. He knew she didn't need his protection, but it didn't stop the overwhelming need from resurfacing.

He stepped into the hall and closed her broken door. He leaned against the wall and told himself to just go to the lobby like he told her he was going to. But he couldn't just leave her here with a broken door, could he? What if someone…

"Stop it"! He scolded aloud.

She's fine; she'll be perfectly fine, he told himself.

Still he stayed put, his long frame leaning with what he hoped was a casual grace against the wall beside her door. He looked down at the floor studying his expensive leather shoes. They could use a good shining he noted. Then he heard footsteps and a pair of black leather boots stopped next to his feet.


	13. Chapter 13

Michael let his eyes travel up the black boots in front of him to a pair of skin tight black pants, and then on to an equally tight black blouse which hugged the curves of the woman in front of him. His gaze then flew to her face and he felt like someone delivered him a blow.

"Amber"? He said in a confused panic. "What are you doing here"?

Amber grinned. "Are you here to see Sara? You are, aren't you"?

She stepped closer and put her hands on his chest.

Michael in his shocked state let her push him against the wall. Then, her hands still on his chest she lowered her mouth towards his. But before her lips could make contact he pushed her away.

"What, now I'm not good enough for you, Michael? All of a sudden you think you have a shot at the real thing and now you can't be bothered with me"? Amber glowered.

Then she smiled snidely. "What do you think the good doctor will say when she hears about our little tryst? You think she'll understand, Mike? You think she'll buy it when I tell her you moaned her name in my ear, when you slammed it home"?

Michael pushed away from her and began pacing.

Amber watched him quietly her smile never faltering. She knew she was holding all of the cards and it felt good.

"Mike? I am a fairly reasonable person, you know"?

Michael stopped pacing and looked at her for a few beats. He was opening his mouth to speak; to ask her what she meant by that statement, when the broken door beside Amber creaked open and Sara stepped out.

She had pulled her wet hair up off her face into a pony tail and the red dress she wore flattered her figure making Michael's heart beat faster.

"Amber? Sara said, and her look of surprise turned to a smile. "I thought I heard voices. I see you've met Michael"?

Amber nodded. "Yeah we've met, right Michael"?

Amber looked from Michael back to Sara.

"Yes, we've met", he said with a controlled tone.

Sara clasped her hands together uneasily. "Good, 'cause uh, I'm afraid I really screwed up. I kind of made two dates for dinner on the same night. And well… I say we all just go and grab something. So what do you say"? Sara said looking at them both hopefully. She was afraid that one or both of them would be upset by the intrusion of another guest at dinner.

"That sounds good to me. Michael"? Amber said with raised eyebrows.

It was apparent to Michael that she was enjoying the awkwardness of the situation.

"Yeah, sure, that sounds fine".

Sara looked at him, but he avoided her eyes. Was he upset by the turn of events? Sara once again had to remind herself what the important thing here was. She had come to Chicago to meet and spend time with her sister, not go to dinner with Michael Scofield. So what if he wasn't okay with it? Well too bad. But if that was the case then why was she worried that Michael was upset with her? God, that man still had the ability to drive her insane with doubt!

She told herself she just had to keep her priorities straight, but she was still shaken by his unannounced appearance in her bathroom doorway. After he had left the hotel suite, Sara had tried to compose herself. She could still feel his eyes burning on her bare skin. The tingle he left still present as she slipped her red dress over her head.

She had picked the dress she told herself, because it was the only dressy thing she had brought with her. But that wasn't entirely true and she knew it. She had brought several pairs of pants and a few dressy blouses that would have easily sufficed for casual Chicago dining.

Sara eyed Amber's attire and had to remind herself not to judge her sister too harshly as she took in the tight black clothing and leather boots. There was no doubt the two women had differences. But as the threesome made their way to the lobby, Sara hoped she would find that she had something in common with her twin sister.

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Since it was getting late they had decided to dine in the hotel restaurant.

But after a quiet ride in the elevator and an even quieter walk to the restaurant Sara was feeling the tension in the air. She just wasn't sure what was causing that tension. Amber seemed at ease with the situation. But Michael?

Sara knew that Michael was uncomfortable. She could see it in his posture; in the way he was holding himself. Still if something was bothering him, why hadn't he just said so?

He didn't have to agree to this dinner, she told herself. The two of them could have gotten together the next day, or even for coffee later in the evening. He had to know how important finding her sister would be to her. Sara knew how close Michael was to his brother, close enough to break him out of Prison. So surely, this situation would warrant some understanding. Maybe Michael just didn't realize this was her first… well second meeting with Amber?

Sara smiled softly when Michael pulled out her chair for her and helped her to her seat. He then moved to assist Amber with her chair.

Once everyone was seated Sara, hoping to break the tension spoke hesitantly.

"So, Michael, how's the project your working on going, the um, the children's wing for the hospital"? Sara sipped at her water.

Michael seemed surprised that she would mention it.

"Well my part is finished actually. Of course if the inspectors find anything to hassle me about that might change. But it went well", he smiled.

"I must say, Sara, I'm surprised you know about my involvement with the children's wing".

Sara smiled, "Oh I saw you on the news, your still quite famous you know"?

Amber was staring at them.

"You're the one who broke all those guys out of Fox River, aren't you"? She said suddenly.

"I mean, my sister didn't tell me we would be dining with a celebrity… how exciting".

Michael felt his stomach flip as his suspicions about Amber were confirmed. She was Sara's sister. It was the only logical reason for the two of them to look so much alike. But still he had been hoping.

And he knew that Amber's question was all for Sara's benefit. He was well aware that Amber knew about his past. In fact she had seemed to know quite a bit about him, he recalled.

He felt like kicking himself for his weakness. He never should have sought Amber out. He never should have…

"Hi there folks, I'm Peter, and I will be your waiter this evening". The waiter disrupted him from his thoughts.

Michael looked down at the menu lying in front of him in relief. He had yet to even open it. His hunger had been steadily dissipating since Amber showed up, but he knew he had to order something.

"Can I start you off with a cocktail"? The waiter inquired.

"You can definitely start me off with a cocktail", Amber grinned

"A nice tall one", she winked at Michael. "Maybe a Long Island iced tea"?

Sara was looking down at her menu, but Michael noticed her uneasy smile.

"I'll think I'll just have water, thanks", she said looking up at the server.

Michael wanted a strong drink, he needed a strong drink, but he didn't want Sara to be the only one not drinking, so,

"I think I'll just stick with water too, he said lifting the glass to his lips.

He told himself if he made it through this dinner he would have a strong, stiff drink to celebrate.

He knew this whole situation held the recipe for disaster. Amber could ruin any chances he had of ever making it work with Sara. If she found out about the two of them it would be over before it even began.


	14. Chapter 14

Michael was relieved that Amber had dropped the whole Fox River thing after his brief comment, that yes he was the same Michael Scofield who had broken himself and 7 others, his brother included, out of a maximum security state penitentiary, but he had moved on with his life and didn't wish to discuss it.

Sara, who had raised an eyebrow at his statement, was quiet for a moment, but then moved the conversation along to how much she missed living in Chicago.

Amber had joined in with her favorite places to hang out in the windy city and Michael had been relieved to just sit back and listen to the two sisters.

He had noticed some resentment in Amber's voice on more than one occasion as she answered Sara's questions and asked some of her own, and Michael wondered if Sara had noticed and was simply ignoring it, or if she truly believed her sister was the nice person she wanted her to be.

And as he watched Amber gulp the remains of her second Long island iced tea Michael wondered if that might have something to do with it.

His real worry was that she would tie one on and start talking about their encounter at the strip club.

He tried to reassure himself that dinner would arrive soon and she would have something to soak up all that alcohol, but somehow he couldn't push away the the nagging suspicion that Amber was enjoying this. He would catch her looking at him and she would give him a knowing smile, her eyes practically undressing him when ever Sara wasn't looking.

When the waiter brought their food, Michael dove right in. He wasn't hungry, but it gave him something to do with his hands. And if he was eating he wouldn't have to join in with little snippets of conversation.

The truth was as much as he wanted to be there with Sara, this wasn't how he had envisioned it, with him setting nervously just waiting for the proverbial axe to fall.

He just wanted dinner to be over so he could leave. And though he knew that leaving wouldn't solve anything, and that Amber could still tell Sara tonight, tomorrow or anytime for that matter, Michael just wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

He was taking a bite of his chicken when he felt Amber's foot snake between his legs. He glanced down to see her boot stroking his inner thigh and then swallowed the bite of chicken and reached for his water glass. That's it he told himself.

He took a quick sip, and then pushed back his chair excusing himself. He saw the look of amusement on Amber's face as he rushed away, and he hated the fact that she knew she had gotten to him. But he had to get away from that table; away from her.

When Michael reached the restroom he pushed open the door and then shut it behind him. He leaned his body against it and took a deep breath. He stood there for a few moments with his eyes closed and his head resting against the sturdy wood.

Michael wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he knew the minutes were ticking away. If he didn't go back out there soon he would have to come up with a believable explanation for taking so long. Maybe he could say he was feeling ill?

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt the door behind him push against his back.

Michael quickly stepped further into the restroom to allow his fellow restaurant patron entry, and headed towards the sink to wash his face. He was turning on the water when she spoke from her place in front of the closed door

Michael turned off the water and the sound of her high heeled boots clicking on the tile floor filled his ears.

"Amber, what are you doing in here"? His voice was even and strong as he turned to face her, but inside he was all panic.

What if Sara were to come looking for them? How would he explain it if she found them in here together. Alone?

When Amber didn't answer him right away he looked away and made to walk passed her, but she reached out a hand to stop him.

"What, you're not ready for round two"? She tried.

She licked her lips invitingly as his eyes found her, and instead of turning him on like he knew she was hoping, he felt himself disgusted by her blatant, sleazy behavior.

He felt her hand move along his chest and reached to push it away, but she grabbed his hand.

"Amber, don't"… He began.

"Don't what, Michael? "Don't offer you something you'd hate to say no to"? She said grinning.

He pulled his hand from her grasp and she laughed.

"Tell me. What do you see in her, Michael? I mean besides the fact that she's hot? What is it about Dr. Sara that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside"?

Michael looked at her, his eyes cold steel.

"That's not really any of your business, now is it, Amber"?

Amber's face hardened and then she laughed again.

"I believe it is my business, Michael. I mean after all, Sara is my sister".

Michael gave her a cynical look and then laughed coldly.

"You and I both know that's bull, Amber. You don't give a damn about Sara, if you did you wouldn't be in here like this".

Amber's eyes hardened and Michael realized how wrong he was about them. Her eyes were nothing like Sara's. This cold, bitter woman was nothing like her sweet caring sister.

"What is it you really want, Amber? I know you're not looking for the same things Sara hopes to gain from this union. Is it money you're after"?

Amber grinned and leaned in close to him to whisper.

"Are you offering me a bribe, Michael"?

His eyes remained cold as he studied her.

"I need twenty thousand dollars", she said her expression turning serious.

"And yeah, maybe I'm a cold bitch to get it this way, but I don't really have a choice, Michael. If I don't get the money in twenty four hours I'm not gonna be so pretty anymore".

Michael stared at her for a minute his mind racing. Was Amber telling him the truth? Why did she owe someone twenty grand?

He was opening his mouth to speak when there was a light knock on the restroom door.

"Michael are you okay in there"? Sara said in a muffled but concerned voice.

Amber's eyes met his and she smiled.


	15. Chapter 15

Amber looked to the closed door her expression one of amused, impending victory.

Michael knew giving into her demands would only further complicate matters; he knew he should probably just let Amber walk out there, and then try to explain to Sara what had happened. Yeah, he could just hear that conversation now. "Sara, I had sex with your sister, but its okay, because I was thinking of you the whole time".

Yeah, that was sure to go over really well. Sara would never want to speak with him again. He sighed inwardly, his choice made for him.

He couldn't let Amber ruin this. He wasn't even sure there was anything to ruin, but on the off chance that there was a future with Sara he just couldn't risk it. And Amber had said she needed the money to get out of a debt, so in helping her he would be insuring that she was safe, right?  
He knew he was only trying to justify giving her the money; and thus furthering his lies to the woman he loved, but it got him moving.

When Amber took a threatening step towards the closed door, he shot a hand out and grabbed her arm.

His eyes intense he led her to a stall and opened the door.

"Michael"? He heard Sara's muffled voice.

"I'll be right out", he said loudly hoping she would head back to the table and wait for him there.

"I'm going to go out there. Wait a few minutes and then join us, okay"? He said to Amber his voice low and calm.

Amber grinned.

"Cash, Michael. I don't do checks".

Michael looked at her coolly

"I wouldn't have guessed that, Amber".

The smile fell from her deceptively pretty face.

She looked at him coolly for a moment and then stepped into the stall and closed the door.

Michael took a deep breath. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He was actually going to give her 20 grand to keep her mouth shut.

He turned and walked to the closed door the lie he was intending to tell Sara about not feeling well becoming less and less a lie and more the truth with every passing second. He felt his stomach twist as he pushed open the door.

Sara was standing in the hall a look of worry etched across her lovely features.

"Hey, sorry about that, I mean not answering right away, but I'm not feeling all that well", he explained with a wane smile.

Sara stepped closer and laid her cool hand against his forehead.

"You don't feel warm" she said, doctor mode kicking in.

At her touch his heart sped up a notch, as memories of their intimate times spent in the infirmary crowded his head.

He saw Sara's expression soften into something he didn't dare hope, and then she was back to Dr. Sara.

She stepped back from him.

"I was just going to go looking for Amber", she said indicating the ladies room door which was just across the hall from the men's room.

"I didn't want to rush in there… I don't really know what she's like… I mean if she would want me in there… if she is you know… Since she's been drinking"? Sara said beginning to twist her hands.

"Why don't we head back to the table, maybe give her a few minutes? I'm sure she's fine", Michael said and then held his breath.

Sara nodded. "Yeah, okay, your right", she laughed.

"Look at me, I've only had a sister for a few days and I'm already trying to smother her like an over protective mother hen"!

Michael grinned and slipped his arm through Sara's.

"Come on, I'm sure she's fine he repeated.

Michael was just saying he thought he needed to go home to bed when Amber made her way back to the table.

"You're not leaving us"? She said in exaggerated concern, she had obviously caught the tail end of the conversation.

"Yes, I'm not feeling all that well, Amber. Besides, I'm sure the two of you have a lot of catching up to do", Michael said rising from his place at the small table.

He looked to Sara, finding her expression hard to read.

"Maybe we can have coffee before you leave town"? He said hopefully.

Sara smiled.

"Sure, yeah, I'd like that Michael".

Amber was watching them. He could feel her cold eyes assessing their every move as Sara came to stand beside him.

He wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do; or whether Sara would be ok with what he did next, but he couldn't 'not' do it.

He reached and pulled her in close for a hug, his body melding to hers. After a few moments he felt her tense in his arms and knew he shouldn't have held her so long, but he couldn't seem to let her go. She pulled away and smiled uncomfortably.

"I'll call you, okay"? She said stepping back from him.

Michael nodded.

"It was nice meeting you, Michael", Amber said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Michael met her eyes.

"Yeah, you too", he smiled.

He knew he couldn't be away from her soon enough.

(The next day)

Michael leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He knew it was time for him to leave. He told himself once again that he was doing the right thing, and then he leaned forward, opened his drawer and took out the small bag containing the twenty thousand dollars he had withdrawn from his account earlier that morning.

He shoved it into his briefcase and headed out the door. He had arranged to meet Amber in the park, where he would exchange the 20 grand for her silence.

He still had his doubts where trusting her was concerned, but he knew he really had no other choice. He knew she would have no reservations telling Sara about the two of them if he backed out of the deal. Amber didn't seem like one to be crossed.

He had decided to walk the short distance to the park and was making good time. In fact he would probably be there early. He took a deep breath and slowed his fast pace his eyes taking in the other business women and men, and the occasional stroller with a harried mom behind the wheels.

When a pretty brunette smiled at him he absently returned her friendliness, his mind elsewhere. But then he was used to women smiling at him, their attention an every day occurrence.

When he reached the park he made his way to the rear entrance. He saw her waiting for him and looked at his watch. He wasn't late, she was early.

He saw her look up as he approached.

"You came", she said, a note of surprise present in her tone.

Michael stopped in front of her.

"Yeah, I came", he said shoving the bag into her hands.

"It's all there", he said coolly, his jaw tightening.

"You can count it if you like".

Amber smiled coolly.

"I trust you, Michael. After all, you do have a lot to lose".

Michael looked at her intently.

"This is it, Amber. This is the end. I'm giving you this money and you're giving me your word; Sara can never know about the two of us".

Amber's smile widened and she leaned in conspiratorially.

"Don't worry, Michael. It'll be our little secret".

Michael was backing away when her hand shot out.

"I know you think I'm this terrible person, Michael. And maybe your right, maybe I am. But Sara is my sister. And believe it our not, I do have some feelings".

Michael stared at her wondering where this was headed.

"Anyways", she continued. "I don't necessarily want to see Sara hurt. I guess that's all I'm trying to say", she finished awkwardly.

Michael didn't know whether to believe her or not, his instincts told him she was lying a blue streak.

Telling himself it didn't matter whether she was being honest or not he backed away.

"I have to go, Amber", he said and turned around to leave.

He left her watching his retreating back and made his way out of the park.

When he was out on the sidewalk once again he looked at his watch; only 20 minutes had passed since he had left his office.

So that's how long it takes, he told himself. It only takes 20 minutes to sell your soul to the devil.


	16. Chapter 16

Michael knocked apprehensively on the door and then waited. He knew Jen was home; her car was parked in the driveway. He was looking down at his feet when she opened the door. He looked up quickly.

"Jen", he said, his tone matching the serious expression on her face.

She looked upset, but also relieved to see him. She didn't say anything but swung the door wide for him to enter. He followed her in and then she turned to face him.

"So, your back", it was a statement and yet he felt the need to explain.

The only problem was the explanation would be a lie, unless he just leveled with her. And that was what he had come here to do; to break things off with her once and for all.

He looked into her bright blue eyes. He knew this was going to hurt her badly, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

"We need to talk, Jen", he said softly.

She nodded.

"Yeah, Michael I figured that much out on my own".

He looked away and then back to her hurt eyes.

"I'm sorry about all of this; the way I handled it…everything. I shouldn't have left without talking to you".

Jen looked away.

"Lincoln told me you were having a tough time with something. Are you having second thoughts about the wedding, Michael; about us"?

Michael walked to her and took her hands gently, making her look at him.

"I don't know how to"… He took a deep breath.

"I can't marry you Jen. It wouldn't be fair to either of us".

She ripped her hands from his.

"It wouldn't be fair, Michael? Fair? You asked me to marry you, my parents, my family plan a huge wedding for us and you just… and what about us, Michael? What were we doing"?

Michael looked away from her angry hurt eyes as they filled with tears.

"I'm so sorry, Jen".

"Who is she? Is it the doctor"? She asked wiping angrily at her tears.

At his surprised look, "I'm not stupid, Michael. Or maybe I am for thinking I could make you forget her".

And then softly, "It is her isn't it"?

Michael nodded. "But I swear nothing happened, just dinner that's all".

Jennifer had been twisting her hands, but now she held them stiffly at her sides.

"I want you to leave, Michael". She pulled the engagement ring from her finger.

"And here, give this to your doctor"! She dropped it in his hand and ran from the room.

Michael wasn't sure what to do. She was hurting that was obvious, but he was the one causing all of that pain. He was probably the last person to offer any comfort.

He pulled out his cell phone. It only took him a moment to get Jen's sister Kelly on the line.

He told her as little as possible. He listened as she said she would be right over and then he ended the call.

He stood quietly for a moment looking at the ring resting in his palm.

And then he placed it on the coffee table and showed himself out.

After leaving Jen's house Michael headed home. He knew he had done the right thing, but it still hurt. Just seeing what his words had done to her had left a hallow ache in his chest.

Despite his feelings for Sara, he did love Jennifer… it was just a different kind of love. With Sara his love was blinding. He felt like he couldn't catch his breath. And he knew it was real. With Jen it had just been… well, settling; settling with feelings involved.

Unfortunately it had taken his run in with Amber to make him realize what a mistake marrying Jen would have been.

"Men heap together the mistakes of their lives, to create a monster they call destiny". Who had said that? He couldn't remember but it sure rang true at the moment.

He sighed deeply as he pulled into the driveway. He was climbing out of the car when he saw her red head pop up from her spot on the porch steps.

"Sara", he said and a smile broke through his troubled expression. Sara smiled as she stood up to greet him. 

"Michael, I was thinking maybe we could have that coffee"? 

His grin widened.

"Sounds good. If you want we can go someplace, but I have to say I brew a mean cup of Joe".

Sara smiled.

"Here is fine, that way we can talk".

Michael felt his breath catch.

"Um, so you didn't have any trouble finding the place"?

Sara shook her head, "I have to say I was surprised to find you listed. I mean after everything I would think anonymity would be quite attractive".

Michael met her eyes.

"Yeah but you never know when someone important might need to find you, Sara".

Sara looked away and he felt like kicking himself. She was obviously a bit ill at ease about coming there and he couldn't be helping matters much. But he wanted this so badly, he couldn't help the flirtation from slipping out.

He ushered her in and shut the door behind them.

"Come on, we can talk while I make the coffee".

Sara followed him to the kitchen her eyes taking in the handsome décor.

"Wow, nice place", she said admiringly.

He looked over his shoulder and smiled.

"Thanks, I had a little help". 

Sara took a seat on a stool at the breakfast bar.

"You fiancée has great taste".

Michael froze for a moment, but then continued in his preparations.

"Actually I hired someone, but um, Jen did pick out a few things".

He could feel Sara's eyes on the back of his head.

"Is she nice, Jen, I mean"?

Michael took a deep breath and turned to her.

"Sara, Jen and I called it quits. The wedding is off".

He watched her face, but other than surprise she didn't give anything away by her expression.

Was she glad he was no longer attached?

"I'm sorry to hear that, Michael". She said and he was dismayed by the sincerity in her words.

"Yeah, well it was um… things just didn't work out", he said hoping to end it there.

"Yeah, that happens sometimes", Sara said softly and looked down at her hands. 

Michael stared at her for a few moments. He knew she was talking about them. But they hadn't really been given a chance for things to work out. The cards had been stacked against them from the start.

She looked up and met his eyes.

"So about that coffee"?

Michael smiled.

"Oh, yeah… I guess it's time to put my money where my mouth is".

And he turned and pushed the button to start the pot.

They had been sitting across from each other sipping quietly at their coffees for several minutes, and the silence was driving Michael crazy.

He wanted to tell her everything that was in his heart, but he was afraid she would run screaming out the door.

He opened his mouth intending to say something banal; something about the great weather they were having, but instead, "Are you happy, Sara? I mean with Brian"?

He watched her freeze at his words.

"Um, Michael, I don't"… She met his eyes. "I don't know".

Michael felt his heart soar. She wasn't running and she wasn't gushing about how great her marriage was. Dare he hope?

He reached for her hand and to his amazement she let his fingers glide across her palm and wrap around it. She looked at their clasped hands and Michael was afraid she would pull away, but she didn't. She looked up to meet his eyes.

"I would be lying if I said I didn't think about this; about you, Michael. I do think about you, probably too much. And no, my marriage isn't so good", she said softly.

He let his thumb stroke her palm.

"But nothing can happen here, Michael, she continued, her eyes never leaving his. It didn't escape his notice that she still hadn't pulled her hand from his.

Michael released her hand and moved to stand in front of her. She looked up at him, a question in her eyes.

He went to his knees in front of her and bringing their faces level, "I know things were strained when we together… so many things were left unsaid and undone because there wasn't a good time, but… Sara…I"…

"Michael, don't. Please… I can't do this right now… I'm not free to do this… I shouldn't have come here", she said as she made to stand, but he refused to budge.

Instead he brought his fingers up to her hair and pushed it from her eyes. He looked deep within them. He saw her confusion, her fear and something else; something that filled him with joy and made his heart race. She loved him…it was plainly written in her beautiful brown eyes.

He moved his fingers to stroke her cheek.

"Michael", she said softly, pleadingly. "Please" …But his mouth stopped her next words.

She mumbled something against his lips and then gave herself to him. He felt her lips part silently and took the invitation to delve into the warm welcoming softness. The kiss was growing hungrier and more frantic in their need as her fingers wound into his short hair.

And then she was pushing him away and rushing passed him.

She hadn't pushed him hard, but it was enough to make him stumble onto the floor. He jumped to his feet and ran after her.

"Sara, wait, please"! He shouted, oblivious to the neighbor's stares as they unloaded groceries from their car.

His eyes and his heart were only aware of Sara jumping into her rental car and speeding away.


	17. Chapter 17

Sorry about the delay in this and I know it is short. But my son has been home sick all week. 8( For those of you who also read Forbidden love. I hope to have it updated soon as well.

Disclaimer: I do not own Prison break or the song DR. Feelgood. No copyright infringement is intended. 

(Michael)

Michael became aware of his neighbor's prying eyes and slowly turned and walked back inside. He wanted nothing more than to go after Sara, but he knew she needed some time. As he began to digest everything she had said he ached even more to be with her. He knew the guilt she must be feeling. She was after all married and here she was kissing him; well kissing him back, but still.

He began to pace, fighting the urge to run for his car, head to Sara's Hotel and demand she let him in. And if she refused to let him in, then what, would he bust down the door, take her in his arms and… He shut down his caveman thoughts and went to the sink. He ran the cold water for a few seconds and then stuck his head under the flow shocking his system.

He gasped at the coldness and then brought his dripping head from under the faucet. Grabbing a hand towel hanging from a hook by the refrigerator he made his way into the living room and sat back heavily onto the couch. He needed to cool down, get his head together and then he could go to her. He couldn't just leave it like this, with so much still needing to be said.

He leaned back his head and closed his eyes trying to relax. But his mind still raced, his thoughts taking him back to the touch of her lips; the smell of her hair. He sat forward and ran his hands over his face. This was it. He knew if she were to leave today that might be it for them. If he let her leave Chicago; go back to her husband, he might lose her forever. He sighed deeply and then his mind made up he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

(Sara)

Sara parked her car in the parking ramp and headed for the elevator that would take her to her to the Hotel. She could still feel Michael's lips on hers; her mouth a bit sore where his facial hair had chaffed her skin. The kiss had been so desperate and wanting. She couldn't believe she had let it happen.

What was she thinking even going there? In hind sight it was a bad idea. She knew she couldn't trust her feelings for him. She wanted him too much. And she wasn't free to have these feelings; these feelings that she knew ran deeper than mere lust. She loved him. There she was being honest. She was in love with Michael. She had only been kidding herself in the past when she told herself her feelings for him were dead; when she had told herself marrying Brian was what she truly wanted.

So now what? Should she go home and tell Brian it was over, or try to forget Michael and make her marriage work? Why did this have to be so difficult? She really did love Brian, but she knew her feelings for him were no match for what she felt for Michael; for what she had always felt for Michael, ever since he walked though the door of the infirmary. But did that make it right? Sara was lost in these thoughts as she pushed the button on the elevator.

She never even heard the approaching footsteps behind her. It wasn't until a hand wrapped around her shoving a foul smelling rag across her nose and mouth that she realized she was in danger. And then it was too late. She struggled briefly and then slumped into the man's arms.

(Michael)

Michael cursed the Chicago traffic and laid on his horn for the second time. He had a bad feeling that time was of the essence. That Sara was going to be gone when he reached her Hotel. He was making a turn down a one way street when the car slammed into him. In his hast to get to Sara, Michael had neglected to fasten his seat belt. He slammed hard into the side of the window as the airbag deployed.

He blinked groggily as the blood dripped down his forehead and into his eyes, the sound of the Chicago streets filling his ears sounding further and further away with every passing second. His last thoughts before losing consciousness were of Sara, and then as blackness claimed him, he slumped forward his head coming to rest on the air bag in front of him

(Amber)

When Sara was fully out, Amber stepped from behind the SUV that she had been hiding behind. She nodded her head and motioned for the man to load Sara in as she opened the back door. She stood back and observed; the bandages on her face itchy.

When the deed was done the man turned to her. She shoved the small bag containing the 20 thousand dollars into his hands.

"There will be more money for you later. Just remember, you don't do anything until I tell you", Amber demanded.

The man looked at her and nodded, his expression becoming quizzical at the voice that issued from her mouth.

Amber grinned. She knew she sounded a little different. But she thought she had Sara's voice pretty much down. After all, how different could two twin sisters really sound? Soon the bandages could be removed as well. The procedures had been minimal, a little tweak here and a little tweak there; when the bandages came off she would look identical to Sara.

And then she would have the life she rightfully deserved; the money from Governor Tancredi's estate would be hers.

She grinned. Michael Scofield had blended nicely into her plans. Who knew, maybe she would even find further use for him other than monetary? Of course Amber knew she would have to avoid Michael for now. He might not be so easily fooled.

She would lie low and hang out here in Chicago until she healed and then she would head to California and her new life. She didn't think it would be too difficult to trick Sara's husband Brian.

Her grin widened as she watched the SUV's tail lights disappear whisking away the only thing that stood between her and her new life


	18. Chapter 18

(Michael)

Michael lifted his head and groaned as a wave of dizziness hit him. His vision blurred for a minute and then Lincoln's concerned face came into focus.

"Linc, what happened"? He said trying to sit up.

Lincoln placed a firm hand on his chest.

"Whoa, little brother, not so quick, you have a concussion".

Michael leaned back and closed his eyes, as the events leading up to his being in the hospital, and he was sure that was exactly where he was came crashing back. He was in a car accident on his way to see Sara.

Sara… He tried again to sit up, and again Linc's hand firmly met his chest.

"You need to take it easy, Mike, really. You banged your head pretty good".

Michael brought a tentative hand up to his head as he lay back against the pillows.

"I tried calling Jen, but it just goes straight to voice mail", Linc said taking out his cell phone.

"You want me to try it again"?

Michael shook his head.

"No, we ah…we called things off, Linc…I'm probably the last person she would want to hear from right now".

Linc studied him for a minute and then went to put his cell phone away.

"Wait! I need you to call Sara", Michael stopped him.

Linc raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Sara? No shit? Since when are you in touch with Sara"?

Michael rubbed his face.

"Since a couple of days ago, she's in Chicago on business…family business. We had dinner last night and coffee earlier today", Michael explained his head pounding.

Michael sighed in relief as a doctor came in ending the conversation, but he knew it was but a temporary reprieve. He knew Linc wouldn't let it go; his brother would be hounding him for details the second the doctor was out the door.

He squinted in pain as the doctor flashed a penlight in his eyes.

"How many fingers do you see, Mr. Scofield"? The doctor began the first question that would bring Michael one step closer to getting out of there and over to Sara's hotel.

(Sara)

Sara opened her eyes to the glaring fluorescents overhead, and rolled over. She put her hands over her eyes blocking out the offending light.

And then the last few minutes before she lost consciousness came back to her.

Sara sat up in alarm, her heart pounding in her chest, as she took in her surroundings. She had no idea where she was. The small square room was windowless and the only thing that differentiated the four walls was the small door on the left side of the room. The white walls were bare and pockmarked under their cheap coat of paint, the floor a dirty bile green tile.

The small cot she was sitting on and a bucket in the corner completed the sparse furnishings of the totally silent room.

Sara eased her bare feet to the floor and made her way to the door, her spine stiff; her body rigid with fear.  
She placed her palms flat on the door and then lowered her head until her ear was flush against its cold smoothness. She couldn't hear anything beyond the thick re-enforced steel.

Sara reached and wrapped her fingers around the door knob its coolness slippery in her sweaty palm. She said a silent prayer and tried to turn it, but it refused to budge.

She swore softly and closed her eyes tightly as she fought the tears that threatened and the fist that clenched in her chest.

As her panic increased she felt her legs giving out beneath her and pressed her back tightly to the door, telling herself she would not faint; she knew she needed to be strong.

She stood there for a few moments trying to breathe, and then let her body slide down the door, where she wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged them to her chest.

"Oh, Michael, please help me", she whispered softly to the empty room.

(2 days later)

(Michael)

Michael pushed the doors open and stepped from the hotel his mind in a whirl. After numerous messages left on Sara's voice mail, all unreturned, he had figured he would have to force her to see him. So immediately upon being released from the hospital he had headed straight for Sara's hotel. But Sara was gone.

A woman fitting her description had checked out this morning taking all of her belongings. The man at the service desk remembered her well. He had had a nice conversation with the pretty red head about California and how she couldn't wait to get back there. Michael had flinched at this, but continued with his questioning.

But the man hadn't known much more. He had no clue when her flight was scheduled, just that she was anxious to get home to her husband.

This last had been like a punch in the gut to Michael.  
So Sara had made her decision. She wanted Brian. Still, he didn't want to believe it was over. It couldn't be over, not after the way she had looked at him in his kitchen; not after the kiss they had shared.

Maybe she just needed a little time? Maybe if he waited say a week or two she would be more willing to see him if he were to show up in California?

His thoughts still in a whirl, he almost stepped out into traffic without looking; the angry horn of a passing motorist jarring him from his thoughts.

He stood waiting for the walk signal, his breath pluming in the cold Chicago air, not really feeling the cold through the pain that numbed him.

When the walk signal began to flash he hurriedly walked across the street to his office building, telling himself he would do just that, he would give her the time she needed. And when that time was up then he would be on her doorstep. And he would demand she talk to him.

He would make her say she didn't love him. And if she could look him in the eyes and say it, he would leave her alone. He would step out of her life forever.

(Amber)

Amber lifted the plain blouse examining it with a smirk. Why did Sara have to be such a dud? She could picture this on a 60 year old, not someone with a rockin' body.  
Still, if she were to pull this off she would have to wear Sara's clothes, adopt her sister's old fuddy duddy style, at least for a while. And then if she decided she needed a makeover? Why, hubby Brain would probably jump for joy.

She grinned and fingered the soft material. At least it was well made. She slipped the blouse on over her black lace bra and buttoned it as she walked to the floor length mirror.

The bruises from her face alterations were fading quickly. In fact she had found with a generous amount of makeup they were hardly even noticeable. And if anyone could hide a bruise with makeup, Amber could. After all you learned a lot growing up with an abusive father.

Amber tucked the blouse in and made her way to the bed, figuring she might as well be comfortable while making this all important phone call; the phone call that would insure Sara's inability to interfere with her plans indefinitely.

(Sara)

Sara shifted uncomfortably on the bed. She had no idea how long she had been in this room, it seemed like forever, but she figured maybe 2 or 3 days tops, going by the growth of hair on her legs, and the trays shoved through the door.

She had hardly eaten anything at first, but then she had noticed herself growing weak. So she had forced as much of the food, mostly sandwiches and canned fruit, down as possible.

She shoved today's fare away hardly touched, promising herself she would eat more from the next tray, and curled up on the small cot.

She was losing herself in one of the few fantasies she allowed herself when she heard the door knob turn.

She sat up in alarm and grabbed the tray, spilling the contents all over the floor.

She was in a defenesive crouching position when the man entered the room. She recognized him almost immediately.  
It was Lou, the man her sister owed money.

Was that what this was about?

"I think there's been some kind of mistake…I'm not Amber...I'm Sara…Sara Thomas…please…you have to believe me".

Lou grinned. "I know who you are, sweetheart. Trust me. I know who you are… and I know who you are about to become".

His words both terrified and confused Sara. What could he possibly mean by that?

"Put down the tray, Sara. I don't wanna have to hurt you", Lou said menacingly.

Sara's grip tightened on the tray.

"Please, just leave me alone", she pleaded anxiously, her eyes frantic.

Lou stepped towards her with a grin. And then he reached into his pocket.

He pulled out the police tazer and held it for a second.  
Then without another word, it shot out hitting her in the thigh.

Sara felt her body go rigid as the tray fell from her useless fingers. And then Lou was on her.

Her body was convulsing so badly, and the pain was so immense, she didn't even feel the sting of the needle.

She felt her body relax and then her eyes fluttered closed thankfully.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I do not own Prison Break No copyright infringement is intended.

Sara opened her eyes groggily and tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness hit her forcing her to reconsider. She lay back on the bed and took in her new surroundings. She stared at the stark white walls and ceiling of her new cage, the only difference being it looked much newer and cleaner than her previous holding cell, and when she turned her head she could see a partially opened door leading to a bathroom.

So they had moved her. That was why she had been tazered and drugged? Why were they doing this to her? She knew it had to be something to do with Amber. Why else would Lou have been there? Were they trying to use her to get Amber to pay them the money she owed?

She brought her hands up to face and then up through her hair. When her fingers met short hair she froze. Sara jumped up and ran into the bathroom. There was no mirror.

She clutched at the sides of the sink fighting a wave of dizziness. When it passed she leaned in close to the metal faucet trying to see her reflection as her fingers explored what was left of her hair. It was short. Much shorter than Sara had ever worn her hair, so short in fact that she couldn't bring a piece in front of her eyes to confirm the suspicion her distorted reflection had planted. Her hair looked much darker.

Why were they doing this to her? If this were for ransom, why change her appearance so drastically? Sara reached and turned on the cold water, and then brought up a handful to her parched mouth, she was so thirsty. She gulped handfuls of water greedily and then adjusted it to a warm flow. She splashed her face trying to shake off the final vestiges of drug induced sleep and then reached for the small towel provided by her captors. She dried her face on the cheap hand towel and then tossed it aside.

She stood for a moment in the bright antiseptic bathroom; a mental pep talk going through her head like a mantra. She knew she had to remain strong and focused. She had to think of some way out of this. If this was indeed abduction with the sole purpose being a hefty ransom maybe Lou could be reasoned with.

Sara pushed her hands through her short hair once again and left the bathroom.  
She was met by two men in white coats. She felt their hands on her arms and started to fight.

"Take it easy, little lady, we don't wanna hurt you", one of the men stated calmly.

Sara looked up at the man, his black features not menacing in the least. Where was she? Sara's heart was pounding loudly in her ears. She had stopped fighting, her fear of another tazer or a needle full of something debilitating a constant threat in her mind. She knew she needed to stay alert.

"Where's Lou? I need to speak to Lou", she said trying to put some strength behind her words, but her voice sounded weak to her own ears.

She saw the two men exchange a look, but neither said anything.

"Please", Sara said softly. "Please, you have to help me", she pleaded as they led her from the room.

She was led down a green antiseptic looking hallway with several doors like her own. As she let herself be ushered by these two men her mind raced. Where were they taking her? She didn't have long to wonder as she was led through a door at the end of the long hallway. She was led to a chair and pushed gently into it by the calm black man. She looked up at him.

"You seem like a nice man, please tell me what this is about? Is this about money…I have money. I can pay Lou anything he wants…tell him, please", Sara pleaded.

The man looked away from her. And then both men left the room.

Sara watched them leave and then she was alone in the spacious office.

She jumped up quickly and made her way to the window. The view; a large parking lot with several cars was backed by woods.

Sara watched as a woman and a man leaving the building stopped to converse in the large parking area. She stood frozen for a few beats and then began pounding on the window in hopes of gaining the couple's attention. The woman looked up and shielded her eyes.

Sara's hands froze for a moment. It was Amber. Sara placed her palms on the window in front of her and pounded more frantically, her mind telling her Amber must not know she was there; she must not have seen her.

Sara watched as her sister turned to the man, and then he was looking up at the window. Sara didn't recognize him.

She pounded harder, her palms stinging. Amber looked back up at the window looking directly at her. Sara felt her hopes soar and then plummet as a cold smile touched Amber's lips. And then Amber raised her hand and waved.

Sara stood frozen her palms still on the window. She watched as Amber turned back to the man and spoke briefly before climbing into her car and driving away.

Sara was still staring out the window when the man from the parking area entered the room behind her.

"Hello, Amber. How wonderful to have you in our facility", he said warmly to her back.

Sara turned slowly, her eyes full of unshed tears.

Her mind was spinning in confusion as she tried to process all she had seen and heard. Had this man just called her Amber? She opened her mouth to correct him, but the way he was looking at her made her hold her tongue. She had seen this look before; hell she had used it herself. In her many dealings with unstable inmates, she had honed this facial expression to perfection. This man thought she was unstable? When he said facility…did he mean a mental ward?

"Where am I"? Sara forced through her dry lips.

She was still so thirsty. She knew it had to be from the drug Lou had administered to her before taking her to this place.

The man held out his hand for her to take a seat. Sara took a deep breath and then let it out slowly before making her way to the chair. She sat down, her back rigid and looked at him as he eased into the chair behind his desk. He clasped his hands together professionally and licked his lips before speaking.

"Amber, My name is Dr. Fredrickson. You will be under my care during your stay with us".

He paused and Sara looked at him. Her mind was racing, but she remained quiet forcing herself to stay calm.

"Now, I know you think you don't belong here with us right now, but I think in time you will grow to like it here. We have programs"…he began, but Sara cut him off her resolve vanishing instantly.

"Where am I damn it?!? And stop calling me Amber"! Sara felt like she was truly losing it. How could this be happening to her?

The man didn't even blink. "I know this is difficult for you, Amber, but your sister thinks this is for the best. And after looking at your medical records I tend to agree with her".

"My medical records"? Sara said agitatedly. "You mean Amber's medical records, right"?

She knew how this must sound to him, but she needed to know as many details as possible.

The doctor looked at her sympathetically. "Yes, Amber Williams' medical records…your medical records", he spoke calmly, softly trying to soothe her like you would a crazy person.

Sara shook her head. "Why is she doing this to me"? She spoke softly now, more to herself than the man sitting across from her.

"Amber, this meeting today isn't formal. I think when we start your sessions tomorrow"…Sara shook her head and leaned forward her knuckles white on the arms of the chair.

"You have to listen to me, Dr. Fredrickson, I'm not Amber…my sister…the woman you were talking to in the parking area?…She's Amber…I'm Sara…Sara Tancredi …I mean Thomas! You have to believe me! I don't know why she's doing this, but please believe me"!

Sara had moved forward while speaking and her hands were now planted firmly in the middle of Dr. Fredrickson's desk; her face mere inches from his.

"Please"? She said softly; pleadingly as someone wrapped their fingers around her arms and pulled her away from him.

"Take Amber back to her room. Give her something to calm her", he ordered the men.

"No, please…please no"! She struggled trying to get away from them. She felt their grip on her tighten and winced at the bruises waiting to bloom. She felt herself being pushed towards the door and turned her head to make one final plea.

"Please…if you don't believe me…please just call someone…call Michael…Michael Scofield… Please"! But she was already out the door and moving down the bile green hallway.

(Michael)

Michael moved through the next few days in a working frenzy. He would go to work, stay late and then drive home and fall exhausted into bed, only to begin the entire process the following morning. But he knew he couldn't keep this pace up, he was starting to feel it. He had the beginning of a cold, and knew it was from pushing himself too hard.

The problem was, this was the only thing keeping him from going crazy. Whenever he had a sedentary moment he would find himself thinking about Sara. And that would lead to him fighting the urge to drop everything and hop on a plane to California.

He was trying to remain patient, but it was difficult. He would tell himself to give her a little more time before jumping in her face. And of course there was the husband issue. Was he just going to go up, ring the doorbell and demand that Brian let him speak to Sara?

He sighed now, and sat back in his chair. He rubbed at his tired eyes and then leaned back, a sneeze building up in his sinuses. He grabbed a tissue and felt it explode into its softness. Great, his cold was getting worse. Maybe he should have Janet order him in some soup? He picked up the phone and spoke to her briefly and then hung up. He would be sipping hot Chicken soup in half an hour.

Until then he had blue prints that needed his attention. He spread them out with a weary sigh and got back to work, thus keeping his thoughts of Sara at bay once again.

Chapter End Notes:

I always love hearing from you all..so please review! 8)


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from Prison break

Amber walked confidently to the front door of Sara's home and let herself in. She had been in Chicago for a few days and Sara's husband Brian hadn't a clue that she wasn't his precious wifey.

She smiled into the large mirror in the hall as she set down her keys and purse. She had been pretending to go into Sara's office to work, but tonight she intended to inform Brian of her plans to take a leave of absence. Amber saw no other way. There wasn't a chance in hell she could work as a doctor. She would be discovered only too quickly to be a fraud if she were to even attempt it. Besides, with money like Sara's why should she work?

Amber grinned as she made her way into the living room. She had intended to relax and watch some TV while she waited for Brian to come home, but jumped in surprise when the man stood up from the couch and turned to her.

"What are you doing here? I thought we had agreed that you would stay in Chicago?" She questioned trying to keep her annoyance at bay.

He grinned. "Maybe I had to see this for myself; Amber all good and proper."

He whistled softly as he walked around her appraisingly.

"You do clean up nice."

Amber smiled as she pulled him close.

"I missed you, Jacky". Her mouth found his hungrily.

"Whoa, baby, take it easy," he pulled away his eyes amused.

"You really think this is a good idea? I mean hubby Brian might come home and then the gig would be up."

Amber stepped away from him and ran a hand threw her long red hair.

"He's clueless Jack…this plan of yours was… is pure genius," Amber laughed.

"And just think, if Sara had chosen another private detective I never would have met you…I never would have had this chance."

Jack smiled. "'You're' pure genius, baby, I mean look at you. You're the spittin' image of the good doctor."

Amber smiled proudly, but her smile faltered a little at his next words.

"I need some of the money, Amber; at least 50k."

"I can't just withdraw that kind of money, Jack. What if Brian…" His slap jarred her almost knocking her down.

"You'll get the money Amber," he said into her tear glazed eyes.

She nodded, "Sure, Jacky I'll get it...50k…small bills right?"

Jack grinned and approached her, pulling her close.

"That's right baby, small bills." His lips gently caressed her stinging cheek.

"Call me when you have it."

Amber watched him leave, her face still stinging from his blow.

She thought of the gentle way Michael had looked at Sara and wondered if she would ever have anyone look at her that way. She had noticed Brian's gentle gazes as well, but those were only directed at her because he thought her to be Sara.

She glanced at the clock. Brian would be home soon. Maybe they could go to dinner?

She pushed Jack's demands for money out of her head and made her way to the bedroom to fix her face. It wouldn't be a good idea to let Brian see the redness from Jack's slap.

She looked into her tear reddened eyes as she slathered on another coat of foundation. She was putting the cap back on when the front door closed announcing Brian's arrival.

She fluffed her hair a little, and pasted on a smile, telling herself she would be free of Jack soon.

She then clicked off the light and left the bedroom, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpeting as she made her way into the living room to greet her husband after a long day at work.

(The next day)

As the blond man waited for the light to turn green, he tapped his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel of his SUV. He looked at the clock and sighed. He was going to be late for his meeting at this rate.

Finally the light changed and he sped through the intersection. He looked behind him searching the empty streets to see if he was being followed and made a quick turn into the quiet park where he came to a stop under a giant palm tree.

He was only sitting there for a few minutes when a tap sounded on the passenger side window. He hit the button sending the locks up and watched as the other, darker haired man silently climbed into the seat next to him.

"Jack," he said with a grin. "Ah, man you don't know how good it is to see you!"

The two men clasped hands.

"So how does it feel to be a rich man?" Jack chuckled.

"You tell me, friend. We're partners remember?" He replied.

"That we are. So I guess we move along to the next step in our plan? By the way, I paid a little visit to Amber yesterday. I think I have her under control nicely. She's agreed to have the money for me soon. And once she gets the 50k I'll up the ante. Soon she'll be making those deposits into our offshore bank accounts," Jack grinned.

The blond man smiled at this. "She's quite the firecracker, that one. In some ways she's like her sister; or at least she has a few of Sara's mannerisms down…But you're right, she's sure a wildcat in bed!"

Jack shook his head, "You ought to see her when she's not holding back…damn!"

"So you think she can be trusted then; I mean to know who I am?" The blond man said on a more serious note.

Jack shook his head. "We shall see my friend. But if she gives us any trouble I'll just kill her. We'll get the money one way or another."

The blond man laughed and shook his head. "I could have just had you kill Sara if I wanted a dead redhead."

"Ain't nobody dyin' unless it comes to that," Jack smiled and cracked his knuckles.

The two men spoke for a few more minutes and then Jack climbed out and made his way back to his car.

After a few minutes, he started up the SUV and made his way back to the main road. Amber was expecting him for dinner, and Brian certainly didn't want to keep his lovely wife waiting.


	21. Chapter 21

(Sara)

It was after her second session with Dr. Fredrickson, that Sara was ushered to the day room.

The day room was Fox Glen's idea of socializing. Sara glanced around at the many patients; some were gathered in front of a large screen television, while others were painting.

Sara was just thinking that most if not all of the patients looked fairly normal when a redhead approached her. She held what looked like a pen in her hand, but on closer inspection it turned out to be a candy dispenser shaped like a large ink pen.

The woman was mumbling something and despite how she strained to make out the jumbled words, the most Sara could come up with was moan pills.

Sara backed away a little as the proffered pen came close to her face.

"Moan pills," the woman mumbled again with an eerie smile twisting her features.

"We all need them."

This last was spoken clearly, and Sara was about to decline the offer when one of the nurses came forward and ushered the still mumbling woman away.

Sara shivered despite herself. She had been around many unbalanced people in her time at Fox River, but for some reason this on top of an upsetting visit with Dr. Fredrickson was just too much for her.

She felt a tear slide from her eye and brushed it away quickly. She told herself it could also be the meds she was forced to swallow.

Sara had noticed the effects of her medication, that at times she felt numb, while at other times her emotions were on high. In fact, she had awakened that morning with tears in her eyes.

She had been dreaming of her father and upon awakening those few errant tears had given over to complete sobs of despair.

She now quietly made her way to an empty chair and sat; pulling her knees to her chest as the tears continued to flow.

As she sat, her latest visit with Dr. Fredrickson began to replay in her tired mind. He had sat patiently, as she had once again explained who she was, and more importantly who she wasn't.

She had begged him to call Michael; to call her husband Brian…But the doctor had only adjusted her meds and told her to try to think positively.

His last words as she was ushered out now filled her head; wouldn't she like to meet some of the other occupants of their fine facility?

Sara had agreed to visit the day room if only to delay her return to the four walls that mocked her day in and day out. But now that she was here, what was the point really? She was still a prisoner, just behind different walls.

She heard a pleasant laugh and turned to look at the petite blond woman. She looked completely normal in her artist's smock.

Sara sat up straighter as she realized the woman was teaching an art class. Until just then she had been too preoccupied with her own depressing thoughts to notice.

Sara slid her feet down to the floor and padded a little closer.

The woman glanced at her with a small smile.

"Would you like to join us, Miss?"

Sara stared at her and then shook her head. She stood stock still and then walked towards her quickly. She needed to get this woman to help her somehow, and she knew it had to be done fast, before a nurse came at her.

She reached out and grasped the woman's arms.

"Please, you have to help me, I don't belong here," she whispered frantically…"I'm not crazy…My sister put me here…I need to make a phone call…just one phone call…please do you have a cell phone? Please," Sara begged.

The woman looked terrified and it took Sara only a moment to realize why. But then it was too late. Sara felt the male nurse's fingers close over her arms as he tried to lead her away.

"Please!" She shouted over her shoulder, her socks sliding easily on the tile floors of the day room as she was dragged away.

"Please, you have to help me!"

Sara was led back to her room. She fought briefly with the nurse, but he was too strong. He subdued her easily and then she felt the needle slide home… all went black.

(Amber)

(One day later)

Amber rolled over to an empty bed, her mind still foggy from sleep. She glanced at the bright red numerals of the clock on the nightstand and wondered where Brian was. It was after 3:00am and the two of them had called it a night around 11:00 after an extremely intense romp.

She ran her fingers through her hair and sat up as a lowered voice filtered in from the other room. She slid out of bed and padded quietly to the door and eased it the rest of the way open without a sound.

His voice was becoming more and more clear as she made her way into the hall, where she stopped and listened.

"I thought she was getting the 50k soon?"

Amber listened to the silence that followed, her eyes narrowing as the implications of what she was overhearing hit her.

She strained as his lowered voice became more insistent.

"Jack, I want this over. I need to get out of here…You said she would be easy to manipulate, so why is this taking so long?"

Silence followed as Amber listened from her spot just outside the living room where Brian paced.

She listened for a few more minutes as Brian whined on and then figuring she had heard more than enough she backed up and quietly made her way back to the bedroom, where she slipped inside and eased the door back to its partially open position.

She then padded back to the bed, where she slid beneath the blankets and closed her eyes.

But she just lay there, her mind far to awake to let sleep take her as it all became clear. The two men were using her, just like every other man she had ever had the misfortune of getting involved with.

But this time would be different, she told herself. This time she would be the one to walk away unscathed. And she would take all of Sara's money with her.

(The next day)

Amber made it through Sunday, her Sara act top notch. She had spent the day pretending all was well and gone about her domestic duties, all the while plotting her escape.

She hadn't wanted to let on that she was aware of Brian's involvement with Jack, so she had waited patiently for Monday morning. And then when Brian left for work she had phoned the airport.

Now she was about to step out the door. Before leaving the country she had one very important stop to make. A little visit to the bank and she would be all set.  
Once there she would sign the papers that would transfer all of Sara's money to an offshore bank account in Panama. By the time Brian came home from work she would be long gone.

She smiled as she pictured Jack's furious expression when he realized he had been duped.

She was pulling on her jacket when the doorbell rang. She froze for a moment wondering if she should maybe slip out the back way, but when she heard the key slide into the door lock she knew it was too late. Trying to act natural she began buttoning her jacket.  
When the door closed loudly she looked up, her expression one of surprise at the eyes staring back at her.

"Surprise sunshine," Jack said smiling.

"Going somewhere?" His eyes flat and cold took in her jacket and handbag

"Just to the bank to get your money, Jack," she smiled.

"To get my money, the 50k, Amber? Not to the airport?" He questioned as he closed the distance between them.

Amber's smile faltered a little. "Of course not, Jacky…I wouldn't skip town on you."

Jack shook his head. "You're lying, Amber."

"The bug I placed in your cell phone says you're a lying bitch…Now I always knew you were a worthless tramp, but I didn't think you were stupid."

His eyes had that look in them again. The look that told Amber she was in deep trouble.

"I don't know what your talking about, Jack I swear," Amber said backing up.

Her backward movements stopped only when she bumped into the small table in the hall knocking a vase of flowers to the floor with a crash. She flinched and then turned and ran.

She only made it as far as the living room before she was pulled to a painful halt by the grip of his fingers twisting into her long hair.

She screamed once and then his hands went around her neck cutting off the air her lungs would need to summon another.

Her hands flew to his and began clawing at them as she fought for freedom, his grunt of pain as her nails gouged into him, barely heard over the blood rushing in her ears and the frantic pounding of her struggling heart.

She clawed harder, but his grip never loosened. Her eyes flew to his pleadingly, but as she stared into his eyes, she saw the complete loss of control in them hot with a temper she had only witnessed twice. She knew then that this was it; he was going to kill her.

She felt tears spring to her reddening eyes and roll down her cheeks as precious air was denied her by his clutching hands. And then he was squeezing tighter, her struggling growing weaker with each passing moment, until finally it ceased as her body went limp.

And as all went black her hands fell lifelessly away from his…


	22. Chapter 22

(Michael)

Michael threw his jacket onto the chair and flipped the television on. He adjusted the volume with the push of a button and then made his way into his bedroom. He was hoping to hear the traffic report.

He figured he had about 45 minutes, plenty of time to shower and change before meeting Lincoln and Jane for dinner, but if the traffic was reported to be heavy, he would have to hurry.

He knew it had been a big step for Lincoln to start dating again after Veronica's death, but Jane was great, both patient and caring, and Michael was thankful for how she had been there for his brother as a friend.

Now it seemed the relationship had moved passed that point, and despite how tumultuous his own love life had become, Michael was happy for his brother; he was glad Lincoln had finally decided to move on. He smiled as he remembered his latest phone conversation with Linc, though he hadn't been able to see him, he had heard the smile in his brother's voice as he invited him to dinner, and it hadn't slipped passed Michael that most of Linc's small talk had consisted of Jane.

Still smiling he stripped the shirt from his back and carried it to the hamper, before moving to crank on the taps in the shower. He felt the persistent little cough, all that was left of his cold, tickle his throat and fought it back. Maybe some steam would help? He thought and adjusted the water making it hotter.

When the temperature was to his liking, he stepped into the steamy confines of the shower stall and let the hot water rush over him, easing away some of the tension from the day.

He washed quickly, and a few minutes later stepped out and wrapped a towel around his long frame.

Knowing he didn't have much time, he went straight to the door and stepped into his bedroom a trail of steam following him.

He was pulling open a drawer in search of some boxers when the news announcer's voice caught his attention.  
He froze as the words filled his head and sped straight to his heart.

"The body of Sara Tancredi-Thomas, daughter or the late Governor Frank Tancredi has just been discovered. Our California news correspondent Marsha Wilson is on the scene, Marsha?"

And then he was in motion, he felt his still damp feet slide on the hardwood flooring as he ran into the living room, his eyes instantly riveted to the flashing lights of police and rescue vehicles, brilliant in their clarity on his plasma TV.

As he listened his pounding heart, fueled by the shallow breaths he managed to take in felt like it was breaking.

Sara's dead? He tried to piece it all together, but his mind was refusing. All he could think were those three words. Sara is dead.

He forced himself to listen as the newscaster did a recap, "An apparent robbery and possible sexual assault; a struggle…Sara Tancredi-Thomas dead," the polished voice repeated with detachment.

He slid to the floor his bare back coming to rest against the side of the couch, and sticking to the expensive leather. But he didn't notice this, his mind much too full to be aware of any outside discomfort.

He cupped his head in his hands and took a deep breath, still staring at the television, but no longer really seeing the flashing lights reflected in his tear filled eyes.

He could hear his cell phone ringing from where he had dumped it on the dresser in his bedroom when he emptied his pockets, but he sat motionless in his pain, with only one thought taking up sole residence in his head.

How could Sara be dead? How could she be lost to him forever?

(Sara)

Sara moved through the day room in a fog, the voices around her muffled by the increased dosage of her meds.

After her 'attack' on the art instructor she had been remanded to her room until Dr. Fredrickson could see her. And then when she was finally brought to his attention his solution had been to keep her so drugged up she would be unable to think in complete sentences, much less form one.

She passed by the bulletin board, her feet shuffling slowly, the brightly colored lettering jumping out at her listing the various activities and the times they were offered.

Her eyes were instantly drawn to the listing for a ceramics class, bringing with it a fleeting memory of the ashtray Michael had made for her at Fox River, but then it was gone; swimming out of her reach to be replaced with a nothingness of thought as her feet took her on her way.

When Sara could think, usually right before the meds cart came around, it would occur to her that she was losing track of time; that she no longer had any idea how long she had been at Fox Glen. And it seemed the drug addict in her was already greedily craving the new drugs in her system.

She felt a tear slide down her cheek now as she passed the bulletin board again.

Reaching up in surprise, she brushed it away, unsure why she was even crying.

She wiped her wet hand absently on her robe, and then her feet were once again moving her along the never ending circle of the day room.

(Michael)

Michael reached for the door handle to let himself out of Lincoln's SUV, but his brother's fingers closed over his arm making him meet his concerned eyes.

"Are you sure, Michael? Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

"Nah, I need to do this alone, Linc. Besides, it wouldn't be fair to Jane. She just won you over."

His forced smile faltered a little and then left his face entirely.

"I had no idea, Linc. I mean, I thought I did, because of when we lost mom...and then dad, but I really didn't. What you must have gone through when you lost Veronica…with everything that was going on back then…"

Linc's fingers tightened on Michael's arm at the pained look on his face.

"Hey, don't man. You didn't know because you didn't have to. And I wish to God you had never had to, Mike. Now I'm gonna say this again, and I think you should really reconsider before answering. Are you sure you don't want some company in California?"

Michael pulled his eyes from Linc's and shook his head.

"I'm sure…it's not going to be easy talking to Sara's husband. But it's something I have to do…and… and I need to see her again one last time…alone. But thanks, Bro, I appreciate it."

Not wanting anymore questions, Michael pushed the door open and stepped out, with Lincoln jumping out his side of the car to help him grab the small bags he had packed for the trip.

The two brothers then made their way to the curb in silence where they embraced, with Michael breaking from the hug first.

He forced another smile. "Say hello to Jane for me, huh?"

Lincoln grinned, "Yep, sure thing."

And then his brother's last words still ringing in his ears, Michael turned and tucked his head down against the Chicago wind, and made his way into Chicago O' Hare Airport to catch his flight.


	23. Chapter 23

Michael left his hotel room with plenty of time to make it to Sara's memorial service. But when he pulled into the large parking lot of the funeral home, he turned off the rental car and just sat there unsure if he could actually do it.

How could he look at the woman he loved lying there cold and lifeless, when the last he saw her, her lips were warm against his own? He knew he had to do this though; that no matter how hard this would be he had to go in there. He knew he had say goodbye to her, that he would never forgive himself if he didn't.

His resolve strengthened he took a deep breath and swiped at his tears, before pushing the door open and stepping out into the deceptively sunny day.

And it was beautiful, it was a perfect California day; or at least what he would consider perfect if his heart wasn't breaking. It was a day to take your children on a picnic; a day to get married under a blue sky that held promises on the light breeze that blew against your face, a day of new beginnings, not a day to bury the woman you would always love.

He glared at the blue sky and wished for rain. He thought it only fitting that the earth should also mourn her passing on this day.

He stood, his intense gaze locked on a small, white cloud for a moment, and then he lowered his head and made his body move forward, his feet numb but obedient, carrying him towards the large double doors of the funeral home.

He had wondered briefly, why no church service, but really he had no idea what Sara's wishes had been. That wasn't something one talked about while running for their lives.

He pushed through the double doors and the dimness of the large foyer of the place cast him in darkness. But as his eyes adjusted, the structural engineer in him took over and he stood in admiration of the Victorian atmosphere of the place, with its elegant beauty of a time long passed.

Sara would like this, he found himself thinking as a small woman of about 50 approached him. She wore a well practiced, kind smile as she asked him which service he was there to attend.

At his answer, she led him to two more double doors and ushered him inside. The service was already underway, with someone, he assumed Sara's husband Brian speaking in front of a small podium.

Michael sat quickly and then listened from his seat in the very back as Brian spoke, his voice indicating the tears he somehow held at bay.

"My wife Sara was the kind of person who cared too much at times. I say too much, because she often went out of her way to help others regardless of the expense to herself." He paused here for a second and lowered his head, but after a few moments of silence he looked forward again.

"But I think…I think this attribute; this wonderful quality she possessed, along with so many others, is what made me fall so hopelessly in love with her." As he continued to speak his shoulders began to shake slightly, and then he collapsed into the podium, his head on his arms as the tears he had been struggling to hold in broke free of their mooring.

Michael watched as an older woman, Brian's mother he assumed came to offer comfort, and then led him away.

A short time later a song Michael recognized, but could put no name to started playing and the service was over. He sat quietly and watched as mourners made their way up to pay their last respects, his eyes looking for, but hoping not to see Amber. He wasn't sure he could handle seeing her there looking so very much like Sara.

He sighed in relief when the last mourner was up at the casket and there was still no sign of Amber. His eyes then moved to the door; looking on the other mourners as they filed out.

When the room was finally empty he forced himself up and began making his way slowly to her.

When he was but a few feet from her he could see the light hitting her beautiful red hair, so brilliant against the white silk pillow her head rested upon.

He froze in place for a moment, once again unsure if he could do this, as he remembered how he would watch for the glow of her hair as he stood behind the fence all those days at Fox River.

Forcing himself onward he took a deep breath and willed himself forward one step's ending beginning another until he was standing beside her still form, looking down upon her serene features.

He felt his breath leave him then as if he had been sucker punched in the gut, and his vision swam with the tears he had held in check during the service.

This was making it real for him, seeing her. Not that he had disillusioned himself into believing it wasn't real, but with her lying in front of him his heart could no longer deny that she was truly gone. He reached and took her hand in his, her hand that had healed him, caressed him, showed him a tenderness when all else around him was hostile. How could she be gone from his life forever?

He stroked a thumb gently along her cold palm as his hot tears fell like the rain the sky refused to pardon. And though his shoulders heaved slightly, he made no sound, this small movement the only other indication of his mourning as he gave into this brief moment of grief.

But this private moment was shattered when a voice spoke up beside him. "You okay, man?"

Michael's head whipped up to see a young guy, maybe 20, looking at him with what looked like concern and maybe a little embarrassment. He realized he was still holding Sara's hand but couldn't make himself let go.

"I'm…Um…Yeah…I'm okay, thanks." His voice was thick with his tears.

"Nice art," the kid said nodding towards the hand Michael held just inside the casket cradling Sara's.

It took Michael a second before he realized the kid was talking about the tattoo that was peeking out from his shirt sleeve.

"Um, thanks," he said the whole conversation surreal to him.

This kid was talking to him about his tattoos while he stood crying at Sara's casket?

He was about to open his mouth to ask the guy if he could have a minute when the kid said something that briefly froze his tongue.

"She has one you know, a tattoo? I'm Chad, by the way, the Thomas's pool guy? I think it's new but it didn't look new, you know?"

Michael's mind raced. Sara had a tattoo?

His mind flew to a conversation he had had with her one day in the infirmary about tattoos. He had asked her if she had any and she had simply shaken her head and smiled that little smile he loved so much. He remembered teasing her in the light flirtation he always seemed to fall into in her presence.

He could almost hear her response as if she were speaking the words now. "I'd never get a tattoo. It's not my…style?"

He realized the kid was looking at him. "Um…you said it was new, but didn't look new? How could you know this?" He questioned his eyes intense.

The kid blushed. "Well, like I said, I'm the pool guy right?" He paused but at Michael's insistent look…"Ah man…I was checkin' her out, okay…I mean…I always checked her out, man, look at her." His cheeks flared with more color.

Michael pushed him on. "What makes you say it didn't look new?"

The kid shrugged. "I seen tattoos before when they're new; they scab up some, and then they're red for a while. Well Sara's…I mean Mrs. Thomas's was like healed you know? But like, the week before she left for her trip, she didn't have it…I woulda noticed cause of where it's at." Michael's eyes moved as the kid pointed to his left shoulder. And then he turned his gaze back to Sara.

"Do you remember what this tattoo looked like?"

His gaze never left her face as he waited intently for the kid's answer.

"Um, yeah it was a weird one…I ain't never seen one like it. It looked like this bug trapped in glass, you know like a mosquito?"

Michael's heart leaped. "Trapped in Amber," he muttered.

He could hear the kid talking but his mind was reeling. Somehow he had to see that tattoo.


	24. Chapter 24

(Author's Chapter Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from Prison break. No copyright infringement intended.)

"I need you to do something for me," Michael said, his eyes boring into the kid.

Chad was looking at him questioningly so Michael continued.

"I need a few minutes alone with Sara. And I need you to make sure no one comes in here."

Chad shook his head. "What are you gonna do, man?"

Then he got the old light bulb going on over the head look, "I don't want anything to do with this," he started to turn away, but Michael grabbed his arm.

"Dude, I could lose my job!"

Michael looked him dead on, his eyes cold steel.

"What do think will happen if my buddy Brian finds out you spent more time ogling his wife than cleaning his pool…Dude?"

The kid looked like he was about to cave, so Michael pushed on.

"Look, all I need is five minutes. You stand outside, someone tries to come in you stall. It's simple."

Chad nodded, but he still looked unsure. "Yeah, okay, five minutes…and then I'm outta here."

Michael watched Chad make his way to the door and slip out shutting it behind him. And then he turned silently to the casket and set to work. It took him only a minute to unbutton her shirt and expose her left shoulder, his eyes on the look out for the tattoo.

His breath left him at the sight. The kid was right. The tattoo wasn't new, and it was exactly as he said it was; a mosquito trapped in amber. He pulled his eyes from it and took out his cell phone, suddenly glad that LJ had insisted he buy a model with a camera function.

His long fingers working quickly, he gently positioned her so that her face would be visible in the shots. He took a close up and then a few at different angles, before he was satisfied he had at least one good shot. And then silently flipping the phone closed, he shoved it into his pocket, before setting to the task of redressing Amber and repositioning her as she had been.

When all was as it had been his eyes traveled to the still closed door, before once again coming to rest on Amber's face. His mind was whirling. If this was Amber, then where was Sara?

He needed to speak with Brian. There was a good chance that he had been duped by this imposter. And if so, he needed to be told that there was a very real possibility his wife was still alive.

Michael stood for a few minutes in quiet thought, and then forcing his eyes from Amber's face he turned and made his way up the isle not looking back.

(Later that evening)

It was getting late, Michael knew, but he was hoping that by coming late the other mourners would have since left. He needed to speak with Brian alone.

He rang the doorbell and stood waiting his eyes taking in the porch and the potted flowers and plants that adorned it. He felt a smile flit cross his lips. He could just see Sara, her sure fingers in the soil as she tended the delicate blooms, sustaining their lives just as she did those of her patients.

He pulled his thoughts away and rang the bell again, this time his eyes landing on the letters sticking haphazardly out of the mail box. Fox Glen care facility jumped out at him.

He plucked it from the box and looked at the return address, Chicago Illinois. It was addressed to Sara. He held it up to the porch light and tried to see the contents of the envelope, but the folded papers inside were too thick. He was staring at it intently his curiosity peeked when he heard the door opening.

With no time to shove it back into the mailbox where it belonged, he instead turned and shoved it deep into his jacket pocket pretending he was about to walk away. The last thing he wanted was for Brian to think he was going through his mail.

He turned back around and met Brian's eyes when the man spoke up behind him.

"Can I help you with something?" His kind eyes grew flat as recognition dawned on him.

"Michael Scofield," Brian's simple cold stating of his name told Michael he was very aware of who he was, and not too thrilled to see him on his doorstep.

"Yes, Brian, right?" Michael stuck out his hand unsure if the man would even take it.

Brian hesitated and then clasped his hand shaking it briefly before letting his own hand go back to where it had been resting loosely at his side.

"You want a beer or something?" Brian offered holding the door open for Michael.

"Ah, yeah sure," he managed and Michael was sure his surprise showed in his voice.

While he hadn't exactly expected Brian to slam the door in his face, he also hadn't expected to be invited in.

He followed Brian into the kitchen his eyes taking in the crime scene tape stretched across the living room entrance as they passed, and then came to stand in front of the small island in the middle of the large kitchen. He watched as Brian grabbed two beers and passed him one.

"I take it this is about Sara; why you're here I mean?" Brian said cutting straight to the chase.

Michael nodded. "Yes, Sara… And Amber, Sara's sister."

Brian was taking a swig of his beer and at Michael's words he choked, his face turning bright red as he coughed up the inhaled beer.

When he could speak again he looked at Michael with watery eyes.

"What about her, Amber I mean? We…I mean I have no idea where she is. Sara had a number for her, but it was a dead end, disconnected since last week, or so I was told."

Michael nodded and was about to speak when Brian's cell phone rang.

"I'm sorry, I have to take this." Brian apologized with what Michael suspected as relief, and flipping his phone open he set his beer on the counter and left the kitchen.

"No problem," Michael said to his retreating back.

Brian was only gone a few minutes before he returned.

"I'm really sorry, is there any way we can continue this conversation at another time, say tomorrow? That was the mortuary, it seems there is a problem, and I have to head over before…well…" Brian looked as if he were about to choke up.

"I'm just needed there. I hope you understand?"

Michael nodded and set his beer aside.

"Of course, I'll just leave you my number and when you get a chance…"

Brian nodded, "Yes, of course…Tomorrow then."

Michael jotted his cell number on a pad setting on the counter and then Brian followed him out, on his way to his own car.

Michael was climbing behind the wheel as Brian sped off. He wasn't exactly sure why, but something seemed off about the whole conversation. He shook his head, and the letter in his pocket, the letter he had intended to return to the mailbox forgotten, Michael started his car and pulled away from the curb fighting the urge to follow him.

(A short while later)

When Michael threw his jacket on the bed he had every intention of heading straight for a hot shower. But when the letter from Sara's mailbox fell out onto the floor he froze.

He stared at it for a minute his mind going over the reasons why he should and should not open it. In the end the simple fact that it was addressed to Sara and not Brian decided it for him.

If there was any possibility that this letter had information that could lead him to Sara, he needed to see it. He opened it gently, not exactly sure why he was being so careful, it wasn't like he planned on trying to reseal it and return it.

He pulled the pages from the envelope and they were indeed thick; on quality paper. As his eyes scanned the print they grew intense with discovery. Fox Glen Care Facility was a mental institution, and he was quite sure if he were to go there the patient's care Sara was confidentially being billed for would turn out to be Amber Williams.

His heart sped as he hurriedly grabbed his jacket, but then he froze once more as it dawned on him.

There was no way Brian didn't know about this. Michael thought again of how relieved Brian had been when his cell phone rang and then the speed with which he had rushed out of there, and it all became clear.

Brian was in on this somehow, he was sure of it. And if that was the case then Michael knew he was on his own.

He quickly pulled out his cell phone and punched in directory assistance.

"I need the number to Los Angles Airport," his voice was determined.

He knew he needed to get back to Chicago, and fast.

(Chapter End Notes:

Short I know, but I will try to update again this week.)


	25. Chapter 25

(Michael)

Michael made his way to the doors of Fox Glen Care facility and pushed open the door leading to the reception area. He looked around, and seeing no one he headed for the double doors leading further into the large building.

"Excuse me? May I help you, Sir?" The woman behind him said, somehow managing to sound stern and friendly all at the same time.

Michael turned to her and put on a smile.

"Ah, yes as a matter of fact I believe you can.

I'm here to see a patient, Amber Williams?"

He held his breath waiting for her response.

She looked at him for a few beats. "

Are you a family member? I didn't get your name," she motioned for him to follow and headed for her spot behind the glass partition, where she took a seat at her desk.

Michael stopped in front of the desk.

"No, I'm not a family member, but…"

The woman shook her blonde curls. "Then I'm sorry, Sir, I can't give you any information concerning…Who was it you wanted to see?"

Michael grew hopeful, thinking maybe he could at least get confirmation that she was there.

"Amber Williams… Listen if I could just maybe send a message through you?"

The woman shook her curly head again.

"Sir, I'm afraid I can't do that…in fact, I can't even confirm that this person, Amber Williams is a patient at our facility. We pride ourselves on our anonymity here at Fox Glen."

Michael held back the frustrated sigh that was building.

"I understand, really I do, but you see Amber is…was my fiancée, and then after the breakdown…" He trailed off and gave the woman a pleading look.

"If you could just give her this, I would really appreciate it." He took the envelope from his pocket.

The woman looked at the white square in his hand and then started shaking her head again.

"Sir, I'm sorry, truly I am. I know how hard it can be to have a loved one going through a difficult time. But I have no idea who you are, and what your relationship is with this patient you seem to think we have in residence. And I ask you, what kind of place would we be if we passed notes to our patients, notes that could very well be damaging to their recovery?"

Michael let the sigh escape his lips and then nodded.

He said a quick thank you and headed for the doors, realizing his mistake. He should have claimed to be a family member. If he had he would have at least gotten her to look into the patient files. And if she did that he would have at least known Amber…Sara was a patient there.

He was cursing his stupidity as he made his way out to the parking lot, where he noticed a small blonde woman, her arms overloaded with art supplies.

He watched her for a few minutes as a plan formed in his genius mind. And when her tote of supplies popped open and spilled along the concrete offering the perfect opportunity, he rushed to offer his assistance, striking up a conversation.

They spoke for a few minutes and then he turned on the charm. He felt his smile growing as she melted in his hands, and her cheeks turned pink at his suggestion. This could work, the thought formed behind his devilishly smiling eyes, this woman could be his ticket inside…She could lead him straight to Sara.

(The next day)

Sara shuffled along her mind in a daze; her meds making her feel as if she were swimming in pea soup. She was on her way to ask the attending nurse for some water when she passed the bulletin board.

She froze in her tracks and stared at the bright green sign: ORIGAMI! Learn the Japanese art of paper folding! Instructor Michael Crane will be joining us tomorrow at 2:00pm. Sign up now!

Sara blinked. Michael Crane… origami cranes…Michael…

She felt her heart beat quicken as her jumbled mind struggled to find meaning in the words she was reading. Michael was coming here? Michael was going to be teaching an origami class?

She made her way to the board and took up the pen on a string that was used to sign up for the arts and crafts offered in the day room. The pen was a big bulky thing, with the roundest tip she had ever seen. Sara had figured out once that this was for safety purposes, but this information was either long lost or hidden behind the narcotics in her system as she tried to wrap her fingers around its bulk.

"Moan pills!" The redhead said sharply as she bumped into Sara jarring her from her thoughts.

"Moan pills… You took my pillsssss…That's my pen!"

The woman ripped it from Sara's fingers and the weak string broke. Sara tried to grab it back, holding onto the urgency in her mind that refused to let the need to sign up for the class slip away.

Sara felt the woman's fingers dig into her arm and the pain leaked through to her numb mind, awakening the primal instinct to fight. She pushed and dove at her, her body slamming hard into the woman driving her back and into a table, knocking the pen from her hand. Sara saw the pen fall and began scrabbling frantically for it.

And she was so close. When the male nurses grabbed her tightly in their grip and hauled her away, her fingers were mere inches from the pen.

"So, close…I was so close," she mumbled as she was led back to her room.

"I need to sign up…please…I need to see Michael."

The kind nurse shook his head. "You know you won't be doin' nothin' until The Doc sees you…and you know what that means… He gonna up your meds. Why you wanna go and do that, girl?"

But Sara was stuck on the nurse's first words…"You know you won't be doin' nothin' until The Doc sees you…"

Sara felt panic bubble up in her and that panic took hold of her telling her to run.

She felt their grip on her arms loosen and yanked herself free with all she was worth.

And then she ran, her body moving faster than she would have thought possible for someone in her state. And it was obvious she was moving faster than the two nurses thought her capable. It took them till she was back in the day room to grab her.

She pushed at their hands, her eyes on the bulletin board and the large sign screaming out ORIGAMI! But they held her fast. She could hear the nurse warning her that she was going to be sedated if she didn't stop, but she had to get to that sign up sheet.

And then it was happening; she tried to calm herself as she felt his arms tighten their hold around her. But she knew it was too late as the needle jabbed into her. And then suddenly the room lurched under her feet, and she was sent spinning into darkness as all around her faded to black.

(Chapter End Notes:)

For those of you who also read Forbidden Love. I am trying to finish this story so I won't be updating FL for a bit. This story should be finished soon though.


	26. Chapter 26

(Sara)

Sara groaned softly and blinked her heavy eyelids several times before finally managing to fight off the sleepy vestiges of the drugs in her system. She watched as the room came into focus, her mind still foggy from the sedatives. But as she lay staring at the all too familiar walls of her room some of the events leading up to her sedation were slowly coming back to her.

She had been in the day room. The pen… She had fought over an ink pen? Why had she needed it so badly? It was all so foggy, but it would come to her if only she could think!

But thinking had become so hard, and she was beginning to feel that first nibbling urge for her meds, making her wonder what time it was. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt withdrawals. Usually she was given her fix long before the need arose.

She held up a shaky hand and brought it into her line of vision before running it up through her short dark hair, where she let it rest briefly against her aching skull.

After a few moments she returned it to the firm mattress, and pushed herself up and into a sitting position, where she pulled her knees to her chest and once again forced herself to think.

It was not just any pen she had fought over; it was the bulletin board pen. The bulletin board…She had seen something on it…something she wanted to…No 'needed' to sign up for.

She squeezed her eyes closed tightly and, ORIGAMI! She could see it as clearly as if she were standing in front of the bright green letters.

"Michael Crane," her voice croaked out breaking through the silence in the room.

Michael is going to be here today, but when? She pushed up off of the bed and fighting a wave of dizziness, she made her way into the small bathroom.

A splash of cold water on her face later she stood gripping the sink.

"2:00pm," her voice echoed off the cold tile walls. "Today at 2:00pm."

But how was she going to get there? She knew how these things worked. She wouldn't be allowed back to the day room until after her visit with Dr. Fredrickson.

She let loose her white knuckled grip on the white porcelain and then made her way to the door of her room as quickly as her weak legs would take her. She began to bang as hard as she could in hopes of getting James' attention, but her arms were weak and soon she grew tired.

She was thinking how hopeless it all was when she heard the key in the lock and backed up, her heart pounding.

She didn't want him to think she was in need of another sedative.

She went instantly into junkie mode, "James, I need to see Dr. Fredrickson, please…I ah, I need my meds and I know you can't give me any until he, um, adjusts my dose…so um, please, would you take me to him? … I really, really need them."

James was looking at her sympathetically.

"Please, James," she begged.

He sighed and she felt her hopes rise a little.

"Okay, I'll see if I can get Jessie to move up your appointment…but no promises, girl. And after yesterday I don't know why I'm even goin' outta my way for you."

He held up his bandaged arm. Sara only remembered struggling with him and Ed, the other nurse on duty. She hadn't been aware she had injured anyone.

"I'm so sorry, James. I didn't mean to hurt you. I don't honestly even know what I was thinking. Over a pen even…"

James shook his head. "I don't know, but you gotta know by now not to be messin' with Jenny when it comes to her 'Moan pills'. The girl can get brutal."

Sara forced a smile. "I promise I'll stay away from her from now on. And thank you, James, for everything. I mean you've always been so kind to me. Thank you for that."

James smiled brightly, but then it faded into a sad look.

"I like you better when you're off the meds Amber. When you're flyin', you're way out there, you know?"

Sara nodded. "Yeah, yeah I know."

He nodded again and turned to go.

Sara watched as he shut the door and then listened as the key to her prison slid home.

(Michael)

Michael pulled into the lot a few minutes after Ingrid as planned. He hadn't wanted to seem too eager. He watched her for a few moments and then jumped out to assist her with the load of art supplies she was once again struggling to carry.

After a quick hello he took the heavy tote out of her hands and made his way back to his car for the origami supplies he had purchased the day before; paper and more paper.

He was amazed at how easy this had all been. Ingrid had practically jumped at the chance to have him teach this class. They had set everything up over coffee, with her going on and on about how kind it was of him to offer his time, and how the patients at the facility would be so grateful. He had a feeling she had another reason for wanting him to donate his time. And he felt a little guilty for leading her on, but he had no other choice.

Still this whole thing was bringing back memories of how he had set out to use Sara. How he had used Sara. And after how he had upset her life he had vowed he would never use anyone for his own purposes again, but here he was doing it again. He reminded himself it was for a good cause, but then hadn't they all been good causes?

He pushed his guilty conscience aside and moved to catch up with Ingrid as she made her way to the doors leading into the facility. As they made their way inside he felt a moment of panic. What if the receptionist recognized him?

He tucked his chin down onto the box of paper resting atop the tall tote and hoped his baseball hat would somewhat shield his face from view.

"Good afternoon, Miss Collins," the receptionist said, but Michael felt her eyes on him.

"Hello, Connie, how's that elbow doing?" Ingrid asked smiling.

Michael felt Connie's eyes move from his face and back to Ingrid.

"Oh, it's still giving me heck, but I can't seem to stay away from the tennis courts, so go figure."

Her eyes moved back to him.

"You look so familiar, do I know you from somewhere; did you perhaps teach a class prior to this one?"

Michael was about to speak when Ingrid came to his rescue.

"Actually this will be Mr. Crane's first class. He was kind enough to volunteer and since I had that cancellation, the bead lady…oh what was her name… Anyways, maybe if this class is a hit we can convince him to come back." She beamed at Michael.

Michael smiled back. "You never know."

Ingrid looked at her watch. "Oh, we have to hurry…it's almost 2:00 and we still need to set up! See you later, Connie!" This was said over her shoulder as she hustled Michael towards the double doors leading passed reception.

"It was nice meeting you, Mr. Crane!" Connie voiced loudly behind him.

"You too, ah, Connie," he said but his words were clipped off by the closing door.

He sighed in relief at having made it this far and sped up as he followed Ingrid's short but speedy legs down the hall that would take them to the day room.

(Later)

Michael walked around the room his eyes, while scanning the progress of his students, were also trained on the door of the day room. When he and Ingrid had first arrived several patients were hanging around waiting for the class to begin; what Ingrid referred to as her early birds.

As more patients arrived Michael had scanned each face carefully, but no Sara. He let his eyes move back to the closed door once more, and sighed. She wasn't coming. Either he had been wrong about this whole thing or… Maybe she hadn't seen the sign?

He refused to let himself believe she had been moved. But he knew it was possible. If someone had become suspicious after his inquiry and notified Brian, he could have had Sara transferred. And if that was the case Michael might never see her again.

He let his eyes move to the blaring green 'ORIGAMI!' sign taking up space on the bulletin board and told himself that if she were here she would have had to have seen it. There was no missing a sign that bright. Maybe she hadn't visited the day room since the sign was erected? It was possible.

He tried not to picture her locked away in a cold, stark room somewhere, but his mind all too familiar with life behind bars refused to obey.

He was so lost in thought when Ingrid tapped his shoulder, he jumped slightly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to startle you! I just wanted to tell you that we're going to have to wrap this up in a few minutes."

Michael nodded. "It's, okay, about sneaking up on me I mean." He teased her into a blush. "I think this went well. I mean they seemed to enjoy it. The class, I mean."

Ingrid smiled brightly. "Origami is a beautiful art, Michael. And I think you're right. I think you brought quite a few smiles to a place with very little joy. I really hope you will consider coming back next month."

At her words Michael's eyes grew intense. "Next month? I was hoping I could come back sooner than that; maybe next week?"

Ingrid laughed. "I wish I had an opening, but sadly…or is it a good thing? I mean sometimes it's hard to get the local artists to volunteer their time, but we have been lucky as of late. The only reason you're here now, like I told Connie in reception, the instructor I had scheduled cancelled on me a few days ago. There was a family illness. It couldn't be helped."

Michael's mind was whirling. He couldn't wait a month to come back here.

He forced a smile. "If you get another cancellation, keep me in mind?"

Ingrid melted before his eyes. "Of course I will." She paused for a moment.

"You know I really don't do this, but…Would you like to have dinner with me tonight. I mean if you're not too busy?"

Michael grinned. "I'm not busy at all. At least I wasn't until now. How does 6:00 sound?"

Ingrid blushed again. "6:00 sounds fine. That gives me time to finish up my painting class, and then wash off all the paint and glue."

Just then a timer went off and Ingrid pulled her eyes from his and turned back to the class.

Michael tuned out her words and trained his eyes once more on the closed door. Come on Sara, he pleaded silently.

But his plea went unanswered, so he slowly, in an effort to stall for more time, made his way over to the table where his origami supplies sat, and started loading them up.


	27. Chapter 27

(Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from Prison Break. No copyright infringement is intended.)

(Sara)

Sara left Dr. Fredrickson's office, James' firm grip showing his strong intention in leading her back to her room. She had glimpsed the clock in Dr. F's office a few minutes prior and she knew that if she had any hopes of making it to the day room before Michael's origami class ended she needed to plead her case, and fast.

She stopped walking and James sighed.

"Amber, don't give me no trouble, girl. Dr. F said take you back to you're room."

Sara met his eyes. "Please, James. I know what Dr. Fredrickson said, but please could we just go to the day room, just for a few minutes?"

James shook his head. "I can't go against Dr. F's orders Amber, you know that."

Sara had become used to James and everyone else referring to her as Amber, and she had pretty much given up on insisting she was Sara Thomas and that this was all a huge mistake.

She knew her ranting only convinced them further that she was unbalanced and needed their help. But now with no other choice presenting itself, she took a deep breath, and speaking as calmly and intelligently as one could when trying to convince someone you were not who they thought you to be, and somewhere you didn't belong, she told James everything.

She told him she was Sara Thomas, and that she was here against her will; that she had been admitted to the facility by her twin sister Amber. She then told him of her belief that Michael was in the day room; and that he had come here to help her.

When she was finished James just looked at her, and then to Sara's amazement, he turned her around and started leading her to the day room.

A few minutes later, Sara stopped outside the day room, her pulse racing. Michael was just inside these doors waiting for her. She refused to believe she was too late and that he had already left for the day. He would convince them that she was who she had claimed to be and they would let him take her home.

She took a deep breath and pushed open the doors, her eyes instantly scanning the room for his familiar closely cropped head. When he was nowhere to be seen however, her eyes once again frantically moved along the patients before coming to land on Ingrid.

Sara moved quickly to the small blond woman.

"Where is he? Where's Michael?"

Ingrid looked puzzled for a moment. "You must mean, Mr. Crane, the origami instructor. I'm afraid the class just ended. In fact I just returned from walking him out."

Her last few words going up in volume; followed Sara as she ran to the window.

From her spot at the second story window, Sara watched Michael flip his cell phone closed and hop into his car.

He's leaving! Her frantic mind screamed, as her fists bunched into tight balls. She brought them up and began to pound in the hopes of getting his attention, but her efforts fell on deaf ears.

She watched as the car started and began to move, her desperate thoughts drowning out the voices around her, mostly Ingrid insisting that James stop her before she injured herself, but the other patients were becoming agitated as well, and their voices were rising in excitement around her.

Sara pulled her gaze from the slowly moving vehicle and looked behind her to see James heading for her. But before he could close the short distance between them a man who rarely if ever spoke or moved stuck a foot out to trip him, sending a good deal of the patients into raucous laughter as James went sprawling.

Sara knew an opportunity when she saw one, and she grasped it, her fingers reaching for the chair pushed up to the table beside her. She pulled it out, and tightening her grip she raised it up and swung with all she was worth, sending it sailing through the window and out onto the concrete below where it fell directly in front of Michael's car.

(Michael)

Michael flipped the phone closed and tucked it back into his pocket, his mind too preoccupied at the moment to be concerned with the girl trouble his nephew LJ had insisted was a life or death situation.

It seemed LJ's girlfriend Erin, had broken up with him over some harmless flirting on his part and he needed to know what to do to get back in her good graces. Michael had been about to suggest LJ call Lincoln, but he thought he knew why LJ had called him instead of Linc. LJ knew his father was flying high on all the good feelings a new relationship entailed, and he didn't want to bring him down. So biting his tongue before the words could slip out of his mouth, Michael had promised his nephew that they would get together soon for a good long talk.

Now in his car sitting behind the wheel, he tossed the baseball hat aside, and scraped a hand across his face, his head going back to rest against the seat for a moment as he closed his eyes. His mind moved quickly over what had recently transpired. A month was too long; he couldn't wait a month, Sara couldn't wait a month. And besides if he did wait, who was to say Sara would even show?

He would have to move along to plan B.

He still needed to work out the details, but Ingrid's dinner invitation, a great opportunity to get his hands on her key card, had sent the wheels in his head spinning.

Dinner. He glanced at the clock and realizing he had better move along if he wanted time to prepare for the romantic dinner he would cook for her, he started the car. He knew just the wine too. He would pick it up on his way home.

He put the car in gear and was starting to move forward slowly, his mind going over the details.

He was so lost in thought he almost didn't stop in time to avoid the chair. He slammed on the brakes as it came crashing perilously close to his front bumper, and then his eyes shot up to the window above tracking its passage.

(Chapter End Notes:)

Short I know... I will try to post more tomorrow!


	28. Chapter 28

(Author's Chapter Notes:)

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Don't profit from it.

(Michael)

Michael's eyes took in the woman with short dark hair who was framed in the broken window and his heart began to pound. Could it be? He jumped out of the car and moved closer, avoiding the mangled chair.

"Michael! Michael, help me!" She screamed and he knew then that it was her.

If he hadn't before, despite the terror that laced her words, he would have as soon as she opened her mouth. Michael felt his racing heart break at the sight of her. She was clutching the window frame heedless of the remaining glass, as he stood frozen his mouth hanging open.

He knew what he needed to do, he needed to get into his car and leave; he needed to continue with the plan. He had almost convinced himself that he could do it too, when he saw two dark hands wrap around her overly thin pale wrists and begin to force her away from the window.

And then he saw the blood. It was coursing down her left arm soaking the sleeve of her robe a dark crimson. He felt his anger growing, his intense eyes never leaving her until by force she was prized away with a yelp of pain, and pulled from view into the room behind her.

Michael could hear her voice as she struggled. Fuck the plan! His frantic mind screamed, and then he was moving, slowly at first but then picking up speed. Some part of him knew this was crazy, but he didn't care. He had to get to Sara; not tomorrow…Now. He made it to the doors and pulled them open his feet taking him to the reception desk where he made himself stop and think coherently.

Where was she? And then he saw her. Connie had been in the ladies room, which was probably why she hadn't heard the chair come crashing down.

"I need to go back up, I ah, I forgot something." His pulse jumped in his throat with ever beat of his frantic heart.

He tried to act calm as she took up her post behind the desk.

"Mr. Crane..." She started, but he rushed ahead. "Look I'm in kind of a hurry. I forgot my, ah… my keys. I need to go back up."

Connie looked at him for a few seconds and he realized he had left his hat in the car.

She pulled her intent gaze away and brought the phone up to her ear. "I'll call up and see if someone found them. Maybe they can bring them down to you."

"I could just go up. I don't want to be any trouble," he tried, his voice taking on a desperate edge despite his efforts to remain calm.

"No trouble at all, Mr. Crane," she assured him.

Michael listened as she spoke with someone about his keys. And then out of the corner of his eye he saw the double doors leading passed reception opening.

Michael almost knocked the man in the dark coat down as he sprinted through the open doors and into the hallway that would lead him back to the day room. He could hear Connie yelling behind him and then the man's voice yelling back for her to call security.

And then the man was chasing after him.

Michael flew up the short flight of stairs, the door whooshing shut behind him, only to be thrown open moments later by the man. He didn't even try to distinguish his own pounding footsteps from those of the man, it was impossible.

He knew the day room was just ahead and with his goal in sight he increased his speed. He barreled through the door and took in the all but empty room. Ingrid was staring at him wide eyed from her place in front of the table, her hands frozen over the task of packing her art supplies.

The words,"Where is she?" were barely out of his mouth when the man raced through the open door. He came to a stop, bent over slightly panting, blocking the doorway, his angry eyes glaring up at Michael.

"What is it you think you're doing young man, busting in here like this?"

Michael ignored him and shifted his gaze back to Ingrid. "Where did they take her…you have to tell me."

Ingrid shook her head the rest of her still frozen. Michael took a step bringing him closer to her breaking her paralysis, sending her backing away, as if in fear.

"You can't just come in here like this!" The man bellowed angrily.

"This is a private facility!"

Michael's intense eyes shifted back to the man.

"With all due respect Sir, unless you can tell me where they took Sara, shut up."

The man's mottled skin darkened further at Michael's harsh words, but he remained silent. Michael remained where he was; it wasn't his intention to frighten Ingrid. Instead his eyes sought hers questioningly. "Please,just tell me where they took her?"

She shook her head again. "I don't know where they took her, but she was bleeding."

Michael moved towards the door, but the man was standing his ground. "Step aside. No one else needs to get hurt."

The man straightened his spine. "I'm afraid I can't do that, son."

Michael didn't want to hurt the man, but he saw no other choice. He shoved him hard and the man went through the doorway and collided against the wall with a grunt of pain.

He could hear Ingrid's frantic voice as she went to the man's aide, and then Michael was moving down the hallway and away from the day room. He could hear more voices behind him, and knew security had arrived to escort him out, so he picked up his pace. He went around the corner fast, trying to get a feel for the layout of the place.

He tried a door and finding it locked he moved along. He needed to find an office; files. Something that would tell him which room Sara was being kept in. He raced along no longer trying the doors as the footsteps grew closer. They would catch up with him soon, he knew.

He flew passed the look a like doors that he assumed were the patient's rooms. They were windowless thick steel doors. And unlike the doors leading passed reception which required a keycard to gain entry, these doors were more primitive, a regular key would open them.

He knew Sara was behind one of those doors. Now if only he could find an office. If only he could find the keys…

As he went around the corner he saw the two men and tried to slow up, but it was too late. He pushed one of them as their hands grabbed at him and was moving away again when he felt the tazer gun hit him.

His body seized up on contact and he went down, every nerve ending dancing in pain. And then he was being hauled up.

"Please show Mr. Crane to the door." The man in the dark coat's voice was smug.

Michael met his eyes briefly, his body still twitching in agony as he was led away.

The two men led Michael through the doors and shoved him into his still running car. In his haste he had simply thrown it into park.

He looked up at the gutted out window, now empty and dark, and then back to the two men who had moved to stand guard in front of the building.

He wasn't sure what he was going to do now. Ingrid was terrified of him, that much he did know. He no longer needed to worry about a romantic dinner to steal her key card that was for sure.

He sighed deeply, his muscles still aching from the tazer gun… Yep, plan B had flown out the window about the same time as the chair Sara had thrown at him. Sara… He tried not to see her anguished face looking at him from the window, but he couldn't seem to push the image aside. And he couldn't seem to remove the echoes of her voice begging him to help her. He had a feeling when and if he managed to sleep, she would follow him there as well.

He shook his head trying to banish his thoughts away and pulled out of the parking area. He wasn't sure where he intended to go. He just drove. He slipped into automatic pilot and let his thoughts move along with the odometer. He had driven approximately fifteen miles when it came to him. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and brought up Linc's number. And then bringing it up to his ear he listened to the ringing, his patience growing thin.

Finally his brother's voice sounded and he skipped over the pleasantries.

"It's me. I need to see you… Is Jane there?"

At his brother's response, "Good, keep her there, I'm on my way."

He hung up silencing his brother's worried voice. And then tossing his cell phone onto the seat next to him he sped up, disregarding the speed limit.

If he didn't hit any heavy traffic, he would be at Linc's place in twenty minutes.

(Dr.F)

Dr. Fredrickson hung up his dark coat and quickly made his way to the phone on his desk. He punched in his nephew's number with slightly shaky hands and brought it to his ear. When he heard his brother's son speak, he let out his breath in a rant.

"I didn't agree to this, Jack. I agreed to keep her here, but you said no one would question it. You said she had no one other than her husband and that he was under your control!"

"Whoa…hold on Uncle Frank! Calm down and tell me what happened." Jack's tinny voice came over the line hardly calming his Uncle.

"I'll tell you what happened all right! What happened is we had company! Someone came here looking for her…And do you know what will happen if this gets out? Do you!?"

Jack's voice lost its soothing tone and took on an all business air. "There's a simple solution to this, Frank. We move on to our contingency plan that's all. An overdose for the fair redhead and it's all over. Make it happen."

"Jack, I…fine…it's done." Dr. Fredrickson lowered the phone and replaced it at the sound of the click signifying his nephew had hung up.

Just like his father, Frank thought with a shake of his head, a man of few words. But he was like his father in other ways as well. And Dr. Frank Fredrickson knew better than to make the mistake of crossing either one of them

(Michael)

Michael set down his coffee and looked from Jane and back to his brother. He had spent the last half hour telling them everything he knew, and what he intended to do about it with Jane's help.

"Mike this is crazy, you can't go back in there claiming to be Brian Thomas. Not if it all went down like you say it did. They'll never buy it. Not even if Jane manages to get you the stuff you asked for."

Michael's eyes grew more intense. "I don't have a choice, Linc. I have to get her out of there… tonight. You didn't see her…"

He broke eye contact and looked down into his empty mug, his eyes growing misty with tears,.

"I'll do it."

His brother's words stopped his breath and he looked up at him.

"I can't ask you to do that, Lincoln. Something like this, you could end up back behind bars."

He met his brother's eyes. "Besides I have to do it. I owe her."

Lincoln shook his head, his eyes growing hard with determination. "I said I'll do it. And you owe her, Mike? I owe her... probably even more than you do."

Michael was about to open his mouth to protest further but his brother shot him a look.

It was settled, for better or for worse Lincoln would go in after her. And with a fake ID and some phony discharge papers it might just work…if they were lucky.


	29. Chapter 29

(Lincoln)

"May I, ah help you Sir?" Connie managed to pull her eyes from the three buttons worth of bare tanned chest.

The gorgeous man in front of her was smiling as her eyes feasted on. In the three years since his exoneration Lincoln had grown his hair out and that combined with the neat beard kept for the sole purpose of anonymity kept the words, "Aren't you 'the' Lincoln Burrows", at bay. Sure every once in a while someone would recognize him, but those days were growing few and far between, thank God. He just wanted to get on with his life.

His smile widened as his radar went off. She was hot for him. This part should be easy. He leaned forward.

"I'm sure you can help me, ah…Connie", he said his eyes moving quickly over her name plate.

"I'm here on a family matter. I need to speak with the doctor in charge of my sister in laws care. I don't have an appointment, but if you could help me out?"

His eyes danced to her lips and back to her eyes.

Connie blushed and broke eye contact. "Um, I would be happy to assist you in any way possible Mr. um, I'm sorry I didn't get your name…"

Lincoln met her eyes again with his seductive blue ones. "Brian Thomas. And my sister in law's name is Amber Williams."

Connie's brow knitted up for a second at the mention of Amber, and Linc held his breath. But then she smiled at him and bent to the task of pulling up the information on the computer screen in front of her.

"I'll need to see some ID, standard procedure," she said apologetically. "But you're in luck Dr. Fredrickson is still here, and he should be able to see you."

Lincoln fished out his phony ID and passed it through the small opening in the glass partition. She scanned it quickly and passed it back with a smile, her eyes lingering on his for a moment. And then back to business, she put the phone to her ear and made the call to Dr. F's office.

Lincoln's eyes took in the stark white walls and green tile floors as he followed Connie to Dr. Fredrickson's office. She had volunteered to show him the way.

The hall was quiet except for the soft padding of their feet and Linc tried not to notice how much the place seemed like a prison. He took a deep breath and moved along, only then just realizing he was lagging behind. He sped up his pace and caught up to her quickly. Connie, who had stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway, turned to him as he came to stand beside her.

"This is it. Just have Dr. F call down and I'll come fetch you when you're done," she smiled and was turning away when Lincoln reached out a hand.

"Thanks, Connie. I appreciate all of your help in this matter."

Connie blushed, her eyes moving from his hand on her arm and back to his face. Her voice held a breathless quality when she spoke. "It was my pleasure, Mr. Thomas."

And then she was moving down the hall, her small feet moving almost silently.

Linc took another deep breath and laid his fist on the closed door in a firm knock. When a man's voice summoned him in, he turned the knob and made his way in. The man was looking down at some papers on his desk, but when Linc entered he looked up quickly, all business

"What can I do for you Mr. Thomas?"

Lincoln forced a smile.

"I'm here for my sister in law, Amber Williams. I have the paperwork requesting discharge for her transfer with me. And while I know it's late, I would appreciate if we can make this happen. I'm due back in California early tomorrow morning," he said with a glance at his watch.

He felt Dr. Fredrickson's eyes assessing him.

"I'm afraid that will be impossible, Sir." Dr. Fredrickson apologized.

And then Lincoln saw the gun pointed at him.

Dr. Fredrickson stood up, the gun never wavering. "Who are you, really? And don't tell me you're Brian Thomas, because you and I both know you most certainly are not!"

Lincoln tightened his jaw. "Lincoln Burrows."

Linc watched recognition set in as his name and who he was dawned on Dr. Fredrickson. The man's face changed to show his sudden nervousness, and he clutched the gun tighter.

"Turn around and put your hands against the door," his voice shook, but only slightly.

Lincoln didn't budge. "Where is she? Where's Sara Thomas?"

"I don't have to answer your questions Mr. Burrows. Now do as you were told, turn around and put your hands on the door!"

Lincoln took in the silencer fitted barrel. He wasn't sure if the doctor would actually shoot him, but the man was getting fidgety and he didn't want to push his luck.

He turned slowly, placing his hands flat against the door as asked.

A few seconds passed in silence and then he heard the doctor moving closer. The next he knew the butt of the gun was slamming against the back of his head, and a momentary pain followed by darkness engulfed him as he crumpled to the floor.

Dr. Fredrickson leaned to check Lincoln's pulse. Finding it strong and steady he made his way to his desk where he shoved the gun into a drawer and picked up the phone summoning the two nurses on duty. He spoke to James briefly explaining the situation, and then moved to unblock the door. He knew his decision was the right one as he could barely heft Linc's bulk enough to clear the door.

But James and Ed would have no problem lifting their new 'patient', he knew. The nurses would take the sedated man, or at least what they thought to be a sedated man, to a room, and per Dr. F's instructions Lincoln Burrows would be placed in a straight jacket, where he would await his fate.

Dr. Fredrickson shook his head sadly. It looked like two patients would soon be fatally overdosing at Fox Glen Care facility.

(Michael)

Michael watched from his spot in the woods, the large windows allowing an easy view with his high powered binoculars. He could track all of their movements, which so far had been pretty much none.

Dr. Fredrickson had just stood up, but his back was still to the window. He moved slightly and then Michael couldn't see his brother at all. And it wasn't until the doctor approached Lincoln and struck him in the back of the head that Michael saw the gun.

He watched as Lincoln fell unconscious to the floor, his heart pounding as it became obvious that all had gone wrong.

He let the binoculars fall down around his neck and pulled his cell phone from his dark jacket, his steady fingers making the call he had been hoping to avoid.

"It's me. They have him."

He listened as Jane read off the information he had asked her to pull up just in case the need should arise.

He scribbled it down quickly, before ending the call and making his way back through the woods to the car he had parked a short distance away.

He pulled open the car door and stopped, his eyes moving back to the facility. He was reluctant to leave the two people he cared about most, but he knew he had no other choice, other than storming in there again, and he had no reason to think that would work any better than it had the first time.

No, the only thing he could do was what he was doing. And if this didn't work, he didn't know what he was going to do.

Jane had done all that she could, but having severed her ties to the anti-company three years ago, she no longer had any real power. The few favors she had called in had been about the extent of what she could do.

He started the car, and headed for the address she had given him, hastily scrawled in his usually neat handwriting.

He looked once more behind him and pressed his foot to accelerator, the facility fading quickly in the distance.

Traffic was light and less than ten minutes passed before he was arriving at Ingrid's small home. He jumped out and jogged quickly to her door, where he took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. She had to be home. Please let her be home, his mind was fairly chanting by the time she opened the door.

She had opened it only as wide as the chain would allow, but it was enough for him to see her apprehension.

"Ingrid, I need to speak with you please. I want to explain about earlier."

Ingrid went to shut the door, but he stuck out his foot keeping her from pushing it shut.

"Please! Please, I need your help! Something's not right there and you know it. You saw her. Please, just let me explain," he pleaded, his eyes meeting hers.

Ingrid sighed. "I…Okay come in."

Michael breathed a sigh of his own, one of relief, and followed her into the neat living room of her small home.

"I just made coffee if you would like some?"

Michael nodded and followed her into the equally small kitchen. He watched as she poured two cups of coffee and set his down in front of him before meeting his eyes. "Okay, I'm listening."

When he finished speaking he just looked at her. He knew it was a lot to digest, but her willingness to listen quietly had encouraged him to speak freely. He had told her everything, well almost everything. He hadn't gone into his past.

She was studying him now and his suspicions that telling her about Fox River wouldn't be necessary were confirmed by her next words.

"You're 'the' Michael Scofield, aren't you?" She said in awe.

"Yes, but we don't have much time," he reached and took her hands in his.

"Do you think you can get me in there, without anyone knowing?"

Ingrid shook her head. "I don't know. I mean…I… Maybe…come on."

She hopped up from her stool at the breakfast bar and made her way out of the kitchen and to a small room at the back of the house.

"I keep a lot of things stored back here, so excuse the mess," she said as she pushed open the door and pulled a string filling the room with light from the bare bulb in the ceiling.

"I used to be drama teacher, and pack rat that I am, I never throw anything away."

She hefted a box and passed it to him.

"This should have everything we need."

Michael met her eyes in the harsh glare of the light from the bare bulb.

"I don't know how I'll ever thank you for this, Ingrid."

Ingrid raised her eyebrows. "Don't thank me yet, Michael. We haven't gotten you passed Connie's watchful eyes."


	30. Chapter 30

Ingrid stepped back and surveyed her work. She was looking at him this way and that. And she had this look on her face that made Michael nervous for some reason.

When she had taken the lid off of the box that he had carried to the dining room table for her, he had looked inside it dubiously. The pieces of hair and other odds and ends hardly looked like something that would fool a blind woman much less someone like Connie, but he was hopeful only because it was the only hope he had of getting to Linc and Sara.

Now she stood back shaking her head for a moment, before continuing to dig around for something in the box.

Michael resisted the urge to scratch his head for the millionth time since she had plopped the wig on his head. It was light brown and somewhat scraggly, making him wonder if he looked homeless. And the small beard and moustache affixed to his face itched as well making him feel like the victim of some horrible rash.

She made a triumphant noise and pulled her prize from the box, a pair of horn rimmed glasses. She stuck them on his nose and his vision blurred.

"I don't know about the glasses, I can't even see."

He was reaching for them when she slapped at his hand.

"Trust me the glasses are the perfect touch."

Michael grinned. "So can I look now?"

Ingrid nodded and stepped aside. He made his way to the large mirror in her bathroom and stepped in front of it. He did a double take.

"Funny thing is I look kind of like a professor I had once, scary."

Ingrid laughed. "That is a scary thought. Come on Mr. Harlow."

Michael slipped off the glasses and tucked them in the suit coat he wore, said coat being the only thing saving him from looking homeless in his opinion.

He followed Ingrid to the door where she closed it behind them and locked up. Then following her to her car the two of them climbed in.

He was quiet the short drive back to the facility, his mind lost in thought. He knew he had to make this work; Mr. Harlow had to make it work.

XXXXXXXX

Once at the facility Ingrid led the way with Michael walking a bit stooped over in what he hoped wasn't too much a channeling of the hunch back of Notre Dame. He didn't want to seem too eccentric. He would be posing as Mr. Harlow the artist that was to volunteer his sculpting talents the following day. Ingrid had assured him that no one at Fox Glen had ever seen Mr. Harlow, so as long as he followed her lead, their little scam should work.

"Oh and don't sneeze," she said now as they made to walk through the doors to reception.

Michael looked at her. Because of course now that she had said something, the moustache was tickling his nose something fierce.

He fought back a mind blowing sneeze and ducked his head down at Connie's look of surprise.

"Miss Collins, pretty late for you to be here, isn't it?" She questioned.

Michael held his breath.

"Oh, not really, besides Mr. Harlow wanted to see the work space before his class tomorrow."

Michael didn't see the look Ingrid shot Connie, but he would have thought it convincing.

Connie nodded. "Oh, the work space," she repeated.

She was familiar with artist types. Some of them were down right bonkers and belonged here more than some of the patients.

"Well, you go on up. Oh, and it was nice meeting you Mr. Harlow."

Michael nodded and made to follow Ingrid as she swiped her keycard.

When they were safely in the hall and away from the doors to reception he pulled off the horrible glasses.

"Just point me in the direction of Dr. Fredrickson's office, and then I want you to take off. Go somewhere in the building you feel safe. I don't want you anymore involved than you already are."

Ingrid nodded. "Come on I'll take you to the office. And then I promise I'll get out of your …ah...wig?"

Michael shook his head. He was really starting to like Ingrid.

XXXXXXXX

When they reached the office Ingrid peeked inside to see if Dr. F was around.

Reporting back that the office was empty, she wished him luck and then as promised took off. He watched her retreating back for a moment and then slipped inside the office locking the door behind him.

He made his way quickly to the computer and typed in Amber Williams. It brought up her file almost immediately. He jotted down Sara's room number and tucked it in his pocket. And then that done he did a search on new patients, nothing. No one at all had been admitted to the facility that evening.

If indeed that was what Dr. F had planned, he hadn't had a chance to enter Lincoln as a new patient. Of course he could just be planning to get rid of Lincoln… Michael didn't want to think like that, but it was a very real possibility. These people were insane after all.

He was about to move away from the desk when on a whim he decided to rifle through the drawers, his eyes falling immediately on the silencer fitted handgun.

He pocketed it quickly and made his way back to the door.

Opening it a crack he peeked out. The hall was empty so he slipped out shutting the door behind him.

Now he needed to find room 302. Once he knew Sara was safe, he could begin looking for his brother.

XXXXXXXX

Michael was looking for room 302. But he wasn't sure how he was going to open the door when he found it. While the gun had been a nice find, he would have traded it in a heartbeat for a set of keys.

He felt a small smile touch his lips as the sound of two male voices grew closer. And then ducking back he listened as the two men joked about a shortie one of them was fittin' to hook up with. This was followed by laughter and then the two parted ways.

All was silent for a moment and then whistling filled his ears, growing louder and louder. Michael eased the gun from his pocket and waited. The nurse came around the corner his mouth frozen in a whistling shape, but emitting no sound as he stared down the barrel of the silencer.

His hands went up slowly.

"Take it easy, man. There ain't no money here, if that's what your thinkin'."

"Turn around and put your hands against the wall," Michael demanded calmly.

James did as he was asked and Michael quickly frisked him. When he was satisfied James had nothing on him more deadly than a pack of gum, he had him turn back around.

"Do you have keys for the rooms?"

James nodded. "You here to break some poor sap out?"

Michael ignored him. "Take me to room 302."

James nodded again. "Aw-ight, whatever you say, boss."

Michael blinked at this, his mind briefly going back to Fox River and Bellick before he could stop the thought.

"Go."

James turned and Michael followed. They were there within minutes and James was fitting the key into the lock. He paused before turning it and looked at Michael questioningly.

"This here's Amber's room. You don't mean to hurt her do you. I mean you ain't no crazy boyfriend or nothin' are you?"

"I'm not here to hurt anyone. Now, please just open the door."

James looked at him for a few beats and then turned back to the door. He turned the key and pushed it open.

Michael could see her from the doorway. She was curled up holding her injured arm, the white bandages not much whiter than her overly pale skin.

She was asleep and as he approached her she didn't stir.

"She was sedated earlier. Some crazy shit happenin' in the day room."

Michael nodded. "Stand over there by the wall. Stay where I can see you."

Doing as he was told, James moved to the wall and leaned his large frame against it.

Michael kept James in his sights as he moved closer to Sara. He took in the short dark hair and dark circles under her eyes, her normally thin frame painfully so now.

He felt his anger growing as his eyes swept across her and to the cold stark walls of her room…no her cell, he told himself. This place was a prison.

He took a deep breath and moved closer still, until he was standing above her.

He looked down at her for a moment and then sat gently on the small bed, taking her hand in his. He let his fingers caress her palm lightly, the smoothness of her skin soft against his fingers. It was killing him to see her like this, to see what these monsters had done to her. He placed her hand gently at her side and touched her soft cheek.

"I'll be back, Sara. I promise I'll be back for you."

And then he stood up and turned to James. He reached into his wallet and brought out an older photo of Lincoln.

"Have you ever seen this man?"

James took the photo and studied it. "Yo, this dude was out cold in Dr. F's office."

Michael felt his heart beat quicken. "Do you know where he was taken?"

James nodded. "We took him to the rubber room. Who is this cat anyway? He's a big dude. I almost threw out my back liftin' him."

Michael's eyes hardened. "The 'cat' is my brother. Take me to him."


	31. Chapter 31

James opened the door and stepped inside, with Michael following a few steps behind. Lincoln was lying in the middle of the room, a straight jacket holding his prone form.

"Untie him and then wake him up," Michael's voice sounded flat against the padded walls of the room.

James looked at him for a second and then bent to the task of unfastening the buckles on the jacket. When they were all open and hanging loosely he pulled the jacket off and tossed it aside. But Lincoln was still out cold.

"Now wake him up," Michael voiced again.

James reached and shook Lincoln, but he wasn't responding.

"He's out cold, man. This cat ain't ready to wake up yet."

Michael had been holding the gun at his side. He now raised it up and pointed it at James.

"Wake him up…I don't care how you do it. But wake him up."

James shook his head.

"I don't carry smelling salts around with me; this ain't that kinda joint, man."

Michael's intense eyes were unwavering.

James sighed. "Aw-ight, but if this dude wakes up swingin'…"

He slapped Lincoln a stinging blow.

Linc's eyes came open slowly, and he tried to focus.

"Wha…what's goin' on? Who hit me?" 

Michael moved in closer

"Get away from him. Go stand over there in the corner…"

I know, I know, stay where you can see me. I know the drill boss." James cut him off and moved to stand across the room from them well within sight.

Lincoln was sitting up now and Michael kneeled down beside him.

Lincoln was giving him a strange look. "Mike, what the hell died on your head?"

Michael laughed. "Long story."

And then with concern, "You okay, Bro?"

Lincoln grinned. "Aside from feeling like I got hit by a truck? Yep, I'm okay. Where's Sara? You find her?"

Michael nodded. "We just left her. She's sedated, but she seems okay. I have to get back to her, Linc. Do you think you can walk?"

Linc nodded. "Yeah, just give me a hand up?"

Michael stood and reached out his free hand grabbing his brother's. He hauled him to his feet and helped steady him.

Michael figured Linc was suffering from a concussion. That would explain his dizziness.

"You sure you're okay?"

Lincoln pulled his arm from Michael's steadying grasp.

"Look ma, no hands," he quipped. 

Michael grinned. "Come on, let's go get Sara, and get the hell out of here."

When they reached Sara's room, James moved to unlock the door and pushed it open. When they had left her, Sara had been lying curled up, her body in a defensive posture even while unconscious. But now she was stretched out on the small bed, her right arm exposed to the glaring fluorescents. 

Michael moved closer, heedless of any danger in his need to be near her. He had almost reached her when the door closed loudly and a voice he recognized spoke up behind him.

"Drop the gun, and I won't stick him."

Michael turned slowly, his eyes and the gun coming to rest on Dr. Fredrickson. He had Lincoln, a syringe full of gold liquid pressed against his throat.

"While this was meant for your lady friend here, I think it would be enough to take down this ox. I could be wrong. But is that a chance you want to take, Mr. Scofield?" Dr. Fredrickson intoned, the tip of the needle pressing closer to Linc's jugular.

The man seemed calmer than Michael remembered him being and he noted the glazed look in his eyes. Dr. F was stoned on something.

"Don't do it, Michael," Lincoln said his jaw tight.

But Michael was already lowering the gun.

"Damnit, Mike!"

Michael tossed the gun down, and stepped back from it.

"Now let him go."

Dr. Fredrickson chuckled. "Good boy!"

His eyes moved to James. "James?"

James had been standing quietly over in the corner his eyes riveted to the scene. He shook his head as if to clear it.

"Yo, Dr. F."

Dr. Fredrickson nodded towards the gun. "Pick up the gun and aim it at Mr. Scofield, James."

James didn't move right away, but then he made his way slowly to the gun and brought it up and pointed it at Michael as he was told.

"Good, good. Now we can take care of things!"

Dr. F shoved Linc away from him and James moved the gun from one brother to the next.

"Yo stand where I can see you both."

Linc moved to stand at Michael's side their eyes meeting briefly. And then both brothers were looking down the barrel of the silencer.

Dr. Fredrickson moved towards Sara.

"Once this nastiness is over I think I'll take a vacation. But first things first."

He bent to Sara's side and took her arm preparing to shoot her up with a lethal dose.

"What do you think James, old boy, should I go to Mexico or stay in the states and hit Hawaii?"

"You can't let him kill her," Michael's frantic voice filled the room, his pleading eyes meeting James'.

"He's going to kill her."

Michael remembered James' concern that he was there to harm Sara. He noted the conflict in the man's eyes and pushed harder.

"You care about her, I can see that. So stop him, please."

Dr. F's head shot up at Michael's first words and now he was looking at James his eyes cold and demanding. 

"You'll do as you're told, James, just like you always have."

His eyes then moved back to Sara, the syringe coming to rest at the bend of her elbow ready for the injection.

"Stop! I can't let you do it! Get away from her…now!"

Dr. F froze and looked up. James was now pointing the gun at him, his hand steady.

"I said get away from her you old, fuck!"

Dr. Fredrickson didn't move. He was silent for a few beats, but then he spoke.

"Or what, James, you're going to shoot me?" 

James nodded. "Damn straight I'm gonna shoot yo, ass. You move to shoot that shit, I shoot! Now get up."

Dr. Fredrickson stood and backed away.

"Now drop the smack!" James barked.

Dr. F complied and the needle hit the floor at his feet.

"Kick it away from you."

Michael and Linc had watched all of this in stunned amazement, but when James looked at Michael he met the man's eyes.

"Go get yo girl. Get her outta here. I'll watch this piece of shit, and when ya'll are safe away. I'll call the heat."

Michael didn't know what to say. He moved to the bed and quickly scooped up Sara, her head falling gently against his shoulder. He turned at the door. 

"James? I just…Thank you…for all of your help…for everything."

James nodded. "You wanna thank me, you can thank me by takin' care of your girl there…take care of Amber. She never belonged here no ways."

Michael nodded. "Will do."

And then with Linc following close behind, he made his way down the hall and out the doors using ingrid's keycard.

The three swept passed Connie. But they were out the door before she could make her way around her desk.

"Wait! You can't just take a patient out without authorization! Wait!" Her voice followed them, but Michael was already sliding Sara into the backseat of Linc's car.

Then with Sara safely buckled in, the two brothers jumped into the car. Michael started the engine, and not looking back he drove, the facility vanishing quickly behind them.


	32. Chapter 32

(Here it is the last chapter. Thanks for reading! )

(2 weeks later)

Michael flipped the channel mid report. The media coverage which had tapered off a little over the last week was once again going strong. Each channel was the same only a different face; a different voice. The breaking news being that the remaining two players in the kidnapping/identity theft of Sara Tancredi-Thomas had been apprehended trying to flee the country.

Brian and Jack were now behind bars as was Dr. Fredrickson.

He let his eyes move now to the closed door that stood locked against him and everyone else, but he knew it was mostly him she was hoping to keep out. She had agreed to stay at his place and let him take care of her and for that he was grateful. But when she wasn't meeting with the authorities or lawyers she would lock herself in the guest bedroom and only come out for an awkward meal before heading back in.

The conversation they had had a few days after her ordeal ended now flooded his mind as he recalled the hurt look on her face as his words sunk in.

He had beat himself up about what to tell her and what to omit, but in the end it had all come out. He knew that if they were to have any chance at all he had to come clean, and that included owning up to his indiscretion with her sister.

He saw the door open a few inches out of the corner of his eye and then her dark head peek out, her coppery eyes tentatively meeting his.

He sat forward a little from his position on the couch and felt his muscles tense up as his nervousness grew. He knew they needed to talk about everything; about them. And he knew he was as much to blame as she was for their lack of communication thus far.

He had avoided bringing them up, because he was afraid she would say they didn't have a chance; that what he had done was unforgivable.

He flipped the television off without looking at it, his eyes lost in hers as she moved to stand in front of him.

"I've been thinking about everything; about us, Michael. And um, I know I've spent too much time in my life making mistakes... all of them probably avoidable. And...And I've spent even more time I think trying to make up for those mistakes. And even though what you did was wrong...I know that it would be an even bigger mistake for me to just walk away from you...To walk away from us."

Michael's eyes had been locked on hers while she was speaking, but now he moved to stand.

"You mean...I mean..."

Her lips softly cut him off and then she was pulling back.

"This is what I mean, Michael."

And then she was in his arms, his hands moving up to run through her short dark hair. The kiss was growing more heated when he pulled back, his breath coming fast.

"I have loved you for so long, Sara..."

Sara smiled her eyes growing misty.

"I know, Michael, me too."

He gazed into her teary eyes.

"I thought I lost you...And then I found you again, but until just now I was afraid that you would tell me to get lost."

His eyes were shining with unshed tears.

"Sara I never want to be without you again. I don't care  
what I have to do, I'll move to California if that's what you want. I'll do whatever it takes to make you see that this; that 'we' are not a mistake."

And then she was pulling his mouth to hers in a sweet kiss.

Neither of them noticed as the phone began to ring, in the quiet living room.

She felt his name on her lips but it was swept away as his hungry mouth demanded more, as his tongue sought hers in an exquisite tangling.

And then Michael pulled her down next to him on the couch, the answering machine clicking on with Linc's familiar voice filling the room, asking for Michael to call him back when he got in.

Neither heard any of this, as their mouths so long denied the taste of each other grew heated; as fingers moved along curves and closely cropped hair. As air became less important than the need to remain as they were; mouths and limbs intertwined until they became one with a gasp.

She felt his smooth skin against her thighs as he moved slowly, his intentions to make these moments last, not be hurried through like so many first times, but relished and imprinted on their souls and minds.

She felt his soft gasps against her neck as he filled her over and over again, smooth as silk in his movements, his rhythm exciting her nerve endings to new levels, as a quaking built within her, pushing her closer.

She knew it would be soon, and she wanted to taste him again, needed the taste of him on her tongue. And as his lips parted granting entry, she felt the ground drop out from under her, sweeping her away with sensations only imagined.

She felt her fingers digging into him, unmarked tips on a canvas of intricate design. And then her gasping moans filled the quiet living room, with him only moments later joining her as their urgent caresses matched those of their lips.

A few breaths later, before the sweat had even dried on their skin they were exciting each other anew, their kisses and touches bringing them together once more...as if they could never get enough of each other; as if this would be their only chance at union...

Both knew this was but the beginning for them...

But better that each moment be spent as if it were the last, than merely the first.

The sun was fading from the sky when they finally lay exhausted in each others arms; a light sweat drying on their flushed skin.

Sara's head was resting on his inked flesh, listening to the sound of his heart so close, so real.

"I never thought you were a mistake Michael," she said suddenly.

She paused for a moment before continuing.

"But some mistakes are necessary, you know?"

Michael leaned and kissed the top of her head tenderly.

"Yeah, I know. Some mistakes can change everything."

The End

"Men heap together the mistakes of their lives, and create a monster they call destiny."-- John Oliver Hobbes.


End file.
